Steambot Chronicles
by OrpheumZero
Summary: A novelization of the game. Enjoy a unique take on the story that combines many elements into a more coherant and epic tale of a boy who washes ashore without memory, and into the life of a songtress whose happy face belies a terrible, tragic past. Despite numerous delays and change of developers, chapter 19 has finally shipped! XP
1. Session 1

Steambot Chronicles

A/N: I've been a pretty big fan of Steambot Chronicles since it came out back in 06. While the story lacks real depth, it's the fact that the player can fill in those spots and mold Vanilla as their own that help make it such a great game. Of course a story can only go one way, unless of course this were a choose-your-adventure, but something like that would take a long time to write. So I decided to present a story that, in time, will blend elements of both the good/bad paths, thus a dynamic tale. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the world of Bumpy Trot *for those of you who know the original name :P* in an all new form.

_Chapter 1__ ~ Boy meets Girl_

_It's dark... My head, feels like it's gonna split open!... Vanilla?... That's my name, I think... The sea... I can hear the waves... Wait... I hear something..._

A young man with blonde hair opened his cobalt blue eyes suddenly, squinting as the light of the afternoon sun shining directly into them, eliciting a groan of discomfort. He was lying on his back on a broken wooden board. His worn jeans and blue shirt were covered with sand and strands of seaweed.

"Ugh... Too bright!" The owner of the eyes mumbled groggily, slowly coming to. His vision was beginning to settle both from the glaring light and his returning senses. Turning from side to side, he took in the sight of an enclosed beach, and the lapping waves of the sea. Seagulls chirped and flew around above, drifting leisurely on the salty breeze.

"Oh! Are you awake?." A girl's voice asked, a very soft and pretty voice. The boy groaned in pain as he looked around for the source of the voice.

"Are you ok?" The unseen girl asked once more, and the boy rolled over and looked up to see a girl standing over him. Long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail with two bangs surrounded her cherubic face, while soft brown eyes stared down with concern. She wore a frilly edge pink short top with a red skirt with fishnets and boots, a beautiful red pendent hung around her neck.

_She's pretty, like an angel..._ The boy thought for a moment. He then pushed himself up, and finally stood. But as he took a step, he stumbled and was caught by the girl.

"Hey, don't try to exert yourself too much. You should rest a little longer before you start moving" She said, helping the boy to stand and brushing him off. He looked around, and could see the beach was quite large, though in poor shape. It looked like a storm had just passed through, with boxes and debris littering the area like forgotten relics, and pieces of a contraption lying beside in the sand. He then looked out to the ocean and spotted an unsettling sight, a crashed ship. Flames still flickered on the deck, creating a billowing cloud of black smoke that steadily raised into the sky like a serpent.

"Where.. am I?" The boy asked weakly, feeling lightheaded as he took in the sight, his mind swimming as he tried to recall what had led him to his current situation.

"This is Seagull Beach, south of the Eagle Mountains. You were lying on the sand unconscious, I've been watching over you for a while now. There must have been an accident on that ship over there." The pretty girl said, pointing at the wreckage. Suddenly the boy felt a tingling in his head and groaned. Visions of people yelling, and running every which way, a boy and a woman shouting something to him, then what looked like a rocket heading straight at him.

"Are you alright?" The girl asked, frowning slightly as the boy held his head with both hands.

"Y-yea... Just... my head hurts. Everything is foggy..." He said, then winced as a pain numbed his forehead. Pulling his hand away, a slight bruising could be seen on his right temple.

"You must have hit your head pretty hard." The girl said, smiling again. For some reason, seeing it made the pain more bearable. She then reached into a pouch hanging from her thigh and produced a harmonica.

"This is yours, right? It was lying on the ground beside you." She said, holding it out to the boy. Seeing the small silver instrument suddenly sparked something in the boy's mind. The boy from the first vision appeared again, handing him the harmonica; the word "Vanilla" was engraved on it in golden lettering.

"Vanilla..." He said, blinking as the vision ended and he stared at the harmonica.

"Is that your name?" The girl asked, and cupped her hands as the boy nodded, "That's great, at least you're remembering something." She then giggled, "Oh my, we've been talking and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Coriander, but you can call me Connie, everyone else does." The pretty girl said, holding out her hand.

"Glad to meet you, Connie." Vanilla said, shaking the girl's hand. It was soft and smooth, and like her smile, felt comforting. Connie smiled and nodded, a gentle chuckle playing on her lips.

"I came here to gather some herbs, so if you can just wait here, I'll take you back to town with me once I'm done. I might know someone who could help you with your memory." She said, smiling again before heading to a small patch of flora a short distance of where they both stood. Vanilla nodded, but felt the need to move around, his mind still clouded with thought.

At the opposite end of the beach where Vanilla stood, was a small shack at the foot of the cliff that surrounded most of the beach, a small gated aqueduct lay beside it. Behind him, he could see a narrow dirt road that disappeared behind a bend. But the second Vanilla took a step near the path, he heard a thunderous sound and just barely caught sight of a fiery orange ball heading for the cliff. It struck and exploded, raining chunks of rocks that nearly hit Vanilla, who ducked out of the way as a large boulder crashed to the ground. As the dust settled, Vanilla turned and looked in the direction where the missile had came from. Standing at the top of the cliff was a strange blue machine with a long rifle on the right arm. It half-turned, and Vanilla felt as if whoever was controlling it was staring coldly at him, then it was gone, disappearing into the dense forest.

"Vanilla? Are you ok?" Connie called out, rushing over to the boy's side.

"Yea... I'm fine. But the road..." Vanilla replied, pointing.

"Oh no, what do we do? This was the only way out. I have to catch the bus before it leaves for town!" Connie said with a panic, gently tugging at her bangs.

"Don't worry, Connie, I'll find us a way out!" Vanilla said with a curt point of his finger. The girl looked up, her eyes almost on the verge of tears.

"R-really? I'd hate to trouble you, seeing as how things are already..." She trailed off.

"Don't sweat it, I'm sure we'll find a way!" Vanilla said determinedly, hating to see the poor girl look upset.

"I just wonder what caused this to happen, I heard a loud 'bang' and before I knew it, the boulder was crashing down onto the road." Connie murmured, cupped her chin.

"There was something on the cliff over there, a blue thing, it fired a missile." Vanilla said, pointing towards the spot on the cliffs where he saw the mysterious machine. Whoever, or whatever it was must have had a good reason for doing so, but that was a mystery for later.

"A blue thing firing a missile, huh?" Connie echoed, a thoughtful expression on her face. She then shook her head and looked up to Vanilla, "Let's go, there's got to be a way out of here." She said.

"How about that shack over there, does anyone live there?" Vanilla asked, turning to face the small house.

"N-no... A fisherman used to live there some time ago, but he left." Connie said, stumbling at first when the shack was mentioned. It seemed the mention of the shack brought an uncomfortable thought to mind.

"Wouldn't hurt to try and look anyway. Come on." Vanilla said, leading the way, a pensive looking Connie jogging closely behind. As they neared a small incline that lead up to the shack, a rusted old machine surrounded by debris caught Vanilla's eye.

"Whoa, what's that?" He said, looking surprised. It was similar in shape to the blue machine, only with a faded green paint that was peeling off in areas. It had the appearance of a car, only with backward-jointed legs. It had two claw like arms, one decent looking, the other wiry and scrappy . Whatever it was, it looked like it had been abandoned some time ago, like a discarded toy left to become trash by a careless owner.

"Oh! A Trotmobile, that's just what we need!" Connie lit up, her previous look of unease fading. Vanilla looked at her with a quizzical expression.

"A... Trot..Trotmo-what now?" He said, bemused by the strange name.

"A _Trotmobile_, silly. It's like a car, only with legs. How could you not know that? They're very popular." Connie said, looking amused by the boy's puzzlement. At her statement, Vanilla felt a another tingle in his head. The boy from the previous vision was riding in one of those machines, while the woman barked something at him. Vanilla himself was there, watching from the open doors of some warehouse. Then the vision faded and Vanilla shook his head.

"Hmm, you ok? Is it another headache?" Connie asked, tilting her head to look closely at Vanilla.

"Y-yea, I'm fine. Come on, maybe we can go through the shack to reach it." He replied, heading up the incline. Up close he could see the shack was quite run down, several holes could be seen in the roof, and the wood looked quite weather-worn. Connie wasn't kidding when she said 'Some time' had passed. Trying the door, Vanilla grunted with effort when it wouldn't budge in the slightest.

"It's locked!" He hissed, letting go of the handle. Connie walked up slowly, now looking uneasy again, but kept it from showing in her voice.

"Here, there should be a hole on this side." She said, walking past Vanilla and waving for him to follow. At the side there was a loose board propped against the wall, which Connie promptly moved out of the way.

"Here it is." She said with a smile, as if remembering the little secret entrance fondly.

"You been here before?" Vanilla asked, amazed by the small hole, which looked big enough to admit them both one at a time.

"I used to play here when I was a little girl, me and my friends..." Connie replied quietly, facing away and rubbing her arm. Vanilla became curious of her odd behavior, but decided now was not the time to pry into things. He then turned to the small hole and got onto his knees, crawling through.

It was far more dingy and pathetic inside than it was outside. Dust caked the floor and the windows in layers, and cobwebs littered the corners, and a strong mildewy smell conflicted strongly with the salty air outside. Vanilla brushed off his hands, coughing as a cloud of dust was kicked up. Just as he got over the fit, he noticed Connie had entered the shack and was looking at a dusty picture. She sighed softly and quickly left the shack through a door opposite of the hole.

"Odd, what's eating her?" Vanilla shrugged at the girl's strange departure. He then looked at the photo, blowing off a sheet of dust, he looked closely at the picture. There were two boys, both blondes, and a little girl who resembled Connie. They were smiling happily, likely having a great time. Setting the photo down, Vanilla quickly exited the shack and spotted Connie looking forlornly to the sea.

_She seems pretty down..._ Vanilla thought as he walked the small path from the shack.

"Hey, are you ok?" He asked, reaching out a hand to touch Connie's shoulder. She jumped slightly at his touch, then looked away.

"It's nothing..." She mumbled, clearly lying. Vanilla didn't mean to pry, but something inside made him want to try and understand her, help her if he could.

"Bad memories, huh?" He said, hazarding a guess. Connie looked ready to say something, then stopped, the words caught in her throat.

"It-it's... complicated..."

"It's ok, I promise not to tell." Vanilla said, figuring it was something embarrassing. Perhaps that photo?

"Me and Chicory..." Connie started, trailing off, "Look. Can we just forget about it, please?" She said, looking a little flustered. Vanilla held up his hands defensively, looking apologetic.

"I'm sorry..." He said, not sure of what else to say.

"It's ok." Connie replied, then turned and pointed to the Trotmobile.

Vanilla stepped past Connie and walked along the edge of the path, which overlooked part of the shore and the water. The Trotmobile that sat in the water looked even worse up close, with numerous dents and dings all over its body. Whoever previously owned it had certainly put it through its paces before they abandoned it to the sea's cold embrace. Stepping onto a tank strapped on the back, Vanilla offered his hand to Connie. A smile slowly replaced her solemn look and she carefully stepped aboard. The seat was in fairly good condition, albeit lumpy and smelling a little funky, but now wasn't the time to complain about poor seating.

"I just hope this thing works." Connie said as she slowly lowered down onto the seat, Vanilla following her and seating himself behind the wheel on the right-hand side. Brushing off the dashboard, Vanilla turned the ignition and heard a low growl as the engine strained to start. Connie had her fingers crossed, looking hopeful. With a churn, the Trotmobile started up and lurched forward, its rusted joints creaking as they moved for the first time in ages.

"Ah, it still works! I was worried for a moment." Connie beamed, looking over the Trot's shoulder to see it slowly moving forward. Vanilla gripped the steering wheel and moved the lurching machine forward, stopping short of the debris that littered the area around it. Somehow, it felt natural piloting the rusted trot, despite not having an inkling about it.

"Wow... that was easier than it looked." Vanilla quipped, then noticed a small booklet sticking out of the glove-compartment.

"Ah, this must be the owner's manual." He thought aloud, opening the small book and skimmed through it.

_**Thank you for choosing the Tea Leaf model, Earl Grey II! A sleek, dependable model for the everyday Trot-rider. ~~~**_

Vanilla scanned through the book, it seemed pretty straightforward. The mechanics were basically the same as a car, and despite his memory loss, he still understood cars and basic machines. Pocketing the book, he guided the trot up and over the debris and towards the blocked path.

"Do you think you can move it all?" Connie asked, hopeful.

"It's worth a shot." Vanilla replied, putting on a confident smirk. The Trot's rusted arms creaked and whined, but obeyed as he controlled them pick up the large boulder, the metal claws digging into the rock. Carefully stepping back, Vanilla tossed the rock towards the water, where it splashed heavily, sending droplets that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Amazing! You're really good at this." Connie praised, thankful that the way out was clear again. Vanilla awkwardly scratched his head, a little bashful from the compliment. With a quick glance back to the now smoking ship, Vanilla pressed on down the road, passing a sign that read: **Egret Brook**.

"Over there, that's the bus stop." Connie leaned and pointed towards an ordinary looking farm, a small white sign stuck on one of the fence posts that ran from one end of the road all the up to a steep hill ahead of them. But there wasn't a bus to be seen.

"Oh no, did I already miss it?" Connie frowned, looking crestfallen. Then a thought crossed her mind and turned to Vanilla, "Do you think you could take me to the Hayabusa carpet mill? It's just up that hill." She asked, pointing a little ways up the road, which continued over a small bridge and into a tunnel. Vanilla nodded, happy to oblige.

"Sure, looks like that's the only way to go anyway." He said with a smile, which made Connie giggle and nod in agreement. So up the hill they went, and over the bridge, where a river fed downstream and back towards Seagull beach. The tunnel was actually quite small, not even more than maybe 15 feet long, like an oversized doorway. Emerging at the other end, Connie and Vanilla found themselves at another steep hill, but that was the least of their concerns.

"Hey there, you two on a hot date or something?" A scratchy voice called out to the two. A bearded man wearing thick goggles and a blue jacket descended the hills in what could only be described as a giant _chickened legged_ contraption. Two large violet shields were affixed to the grill, with slitted orange headlights for 'eyes'. A black cannon sat between the top part of the two shields, aimed squarely at Vanilla and Connie.

"Anyway, this area belongs to the _Killer Elephants_, so if you don't want no trouble, you'd be wise to hand over all your cash. And with that shitty lookin' Trot you're in, I think you better listen. Unless... of course you feel like handing that cute honey you're riding with." The thug said as he leaned forward from his cockpit, a leer could be seen plastered on his face as he grinned. Connie gagged and covered her chest with both arms, ducking down in the seat with a fearful look. Vanilla growled, unable to believe such a disgusting person could exist.

"HEY! You better leave Connie alone, you big jerk!" The blonde boy bellowed, then picked up a small rock with the Earl's right hand and chucked it at the portly bandit. The rock dented one of the shields, but otherwise did little damage, however, it was enough to set off the thug.

"That tears it, I was gonna be nice, but you've just made a big mistake, bucko!" The bandit called, then sat back down in his trot. A small canon appeared between the two shield plates, unleashing three fiery shots that rained over Vanilla.

"Watch out!" Connie cried, ducking down in her seat with her hands over her head. Vanilla backed out of the way as the fireballs hit the ground, pelting the empty earth and sending dust and debris all over. Spotting a boulder, Vanilla dashed for it and hoisted it above the Earl. With a creaking heave, the worn trot hurtled the large stone at the bandit, who was too late in moving out of the way. A resounding 'crunch' could be heard as the shields were crushed under the boulder and the bandit jumped out of his seat, hitting the ground running as his ride collapsed in a heap.

"I'll remember this! When the boss hears about this, you're dead meat!" The bandit hollered over his shoulder, ducking into a thick bush that led into the surrounding forest around the hill. Vanilla breathed a sigh of relief and gently nudged Connie on the shoulder.

"Hey, it's alright now. He's gone." The boy said. Connie slowly peeked her head up and looked around, seeing the smashed trot, which fizzled and smoked under the crushing rock, then looked to Vanilla with an astounded look.

"Oh, thank you, Vanilla! I was worried for a moment. That man was from the Killer Elephant gang. They used to be small time, but lately rumors have been spreading about them getting more and more aggressive in their attacks." Connie said, still looking a little jittery from the close call. Vanilla placed a hand on hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The two then continued up the steep hill and through a small gate at the summit.

The area inside was like a fort, with another gate to the left of the first. Two small houses were joined by an elevated hall, while a windmill sat behind them, connected via a small bridge. A large garage stood behind the left house, its gaping entrance accessible by a long ramp . A bus was parked next to the house, but it was yellow Trotmobile that caught Connie's eye.

"I think that's Marjoram's Trotmobile. Can we stop here, Vanilla? Please?" The girl asked pleadingly, and Vanilla found himself unable to say no. Parking the Trotmobile near the bus, the two dismounted it and walked past the fence in front of the house.

"Hey, Marjoram. Are you here?" Connie called out, looking around the empty yard in front of the house. Vanilla meanwhile looked at the other trotmobile. While not much taller than the scrapheap he and Connie had acquired, it was easily much bulkier and designed for heavy duty activity. Both arms were equipped with folded 'fins', possibly shields, while a square shaped metal plate was attached on the back. Just then the door of the house opened and a heavy man wearing a yellow flannel shirt and brown slacks emerged. His hair was cut in an odd style, a buzz-cut with thicker hair in the middle.

"Connie? I thought I heard your voice. Were you out picking herbs again?" The man greeted Connie.

"Yea, and I met someone there." Connie replied, gesturing to Vanilla who moved back over to her side.

"Hi, I'm Vanilla." The blonde greeted the stocky man with a shake of the hand.

"I found him on the beach unconscious. It seems like he lost his memory." Connie explained.

"I see, I'm sorry to hear that." Marjoram said, placing a hand on Vanilla's shoulder.

"So did you get your drums fixed?" Connie turned to Marjoram.

"Yeah, but Mr. Peregrine said he isn't if they'll last long. So I might have to get Dandelion to have a look at them when we hit Happy Garland." Marjoram said.

"Is Basil with you?" Connie asked.

"He should be, but he vanished after I brought my drums inside. I wonder where he could have gone." Marjoram said, scratching his chin and looking around.

"I can go look for him." Vanilla opted.

"You sure? I'd hate to bother you like that." Marjoram began.

"It's ok, besides, I kinda felt like having a look around this place anyway. So, what does this Basil look like?" Vanilla asked.

"He shouldn't be hard to miss, he's a short guy with glasses and a green coat." Marjoram explained, "Try checking out by the garage, now that I think about it he did mention something he had to do around there." Vanilla nodded and headed for a set of steps across from where he and Connie stood.

The stairs led up to the base of the windmill which sat across from the large Garage. And right next to the garage, near a short wall, Vanilla saw a crouched figure. He was a short guy, probably just 5 feet even, his green jacket seemed almost two sizes too big. A brown beret capped his reddish hair.

"Hey, are you Basil? I-" Vanilla began to say as he approached the crouched boy, who turned around and pulled Vanilla towards the wall of the garage forcefully. A hand cupped over his mouth and the bespectacled youth motioned for silence, then nodded his head towards the corner.

"There's a guard over there, but I don't' think he saw us." The short boy said, letting go of Vanilla, who peered around the corner to see a man in a similar attire to the bandit from earlier. He was standing next to a ladder which lead down to a series of scaffolding built into the side of the mountain. It seemed like he had not noticed the brief scuffle between the two boys.

"What's he guarding?..." The little man thought aloud, seemingly ignoring Vanilla.

"You're Basil, right?" Vanilla asked again, causing the youth to turn and look at him with surprise.

"Yes. But who are you and how do you know my name?" He asked, eyeing Vanilla with a suspicious look.

"I'm Vanilla, a friend of Connie's. She and Marjoram are looking for you." Vanilla said, and Basil slapped his face realization.

"Oh man, I almost forgot we've got rehearsal at Six!" The shorter boy said with a frustrated groan, then cupped his mouth and peeked over the short wall to see if the guard had noticed him. Thankfully he had not risen any suspicion.

"What are you doing anyway?" Vanilla was pressed to ask.

"I'm on a secret mission to find out what that guy is guarding... Crap that was supposed to be a secret as well!" Basil hissed. Vanilla got the feeling that Basil wasn't the best when it came to being tight lipped. A voice then caught both of them by surprise.

"Hey! What are you two doing?" The guard had finally noticed the two youths at the corner, pointing at them.

"I don't see no logo on either you, so you best scat before I come over there and toss yer hides over the edge!" He thundered, taking a menacing step towards Vanilla and Basil. Both gulped and immediately took off for the steps to the house, not even looking back to see if the guard was giving chase. Thankfully he didn't, but neither thought to check until they were nearly running headfirst into Marjoram.

"Are you two ok? You look like you saw a ghost." Connie asked, looking worried.

"Nothing, just a little race. Yea... that's it." Basil said with a forced laughed, nudging Vanilla in the side to play along. Connie laughed as well, though she didn't know what for. Marjoram then intervened.

"In any case, we should get moving soon, Fennel and Savory are probably already waiting for us." He said, then turned to look at the Trotmobile Vanilla and Connie had used to get here.

"That's a pretty beat up looking model you have there." He said with a thoughtful look, though it sounded critical (though likely unintentional). Vanilla nervously scratched his head and muttered, "It's not really mine..."

"What?" Marjoram and Basil said, shocked.

"We found it near the shores at Seagull Beach. Somebody must have abandoned it a few weeks ago." Connie explained.

"More like a few months, no wonder it looks like it crawled out of the scrap yard." Basil said. Vanilla's lower lip cringed slightly, did they have to be so critical about it?

"Maybe you could see if the mechanics at the garage will fix it up, should probably only take a few minutes to give it a tune up." Marjoram said, pointing to the ramp near the house.

"Aw, I was wondering if that Trotmobile was yours." A voice said, and everyone turned to see an middle-aged man with a green overshirt and brown slacks emerge from the left house. His balding, graying hair and glasses gave him a fatherly look, while his portly figure added to the jovial appearance of a humble old man.

"Oh, Mr. Peregrine. Is something wrong?" Connie asked, waving politely to the man, who smiled warmly to the girl.

"No, just wanted to see the young lad who helped you out. I couldn't help but overhear most of your conversation about that beaten ol' Trot." The man said, stepping past Vanilla to look over the Trotmobile that was parked near the fence.

"An Earl Grey II. Don't see many models like this one anymore. Such a shame to think somebody chucked him into the ocean like that. Here, how about I give you a spare Sword frame to replace that scrappy one?" Peregrine turned to face Vanilla, who cocked his head as he heard the offer.

"Frame?"

"It's the technical term for parts. So what do you say, interested?" The man asked again with a kind grin.

"I don't know... I'd hate to just take something like that without being able to pay." Vanilla said, shaking his head. He was right to be concerned, he was quite aware of the fact he had no money on his person whatsoever.

"Oh it's no problem at all. But if you're really set on repaying me, maybe you could do a favor for a friend of mine." Peregrine said, adjusting his glasses slightly to focus them better. Vanilla thought for a second, then nodded.

"Hey! Kain!" Peregrine turned and called out toward the right house. The door opened and a burly looking man in a wife-beater came out.

"Yea, Mr. Peregrine?"

"This lad here said he'd be willing to help out with that order you had." Peregrine gestured to Vanilla. The man walked over and heartily shook Vanilla's hand, who felt like a bear was grabbing his arm.

"That's fantastic! I'm Kain, pleased to meet you. Now, cutting to the chase; I've got an order of carpets that need to be shipped to the Siberian Musk Hotel in Nefroburg, think you could do that for me?" Kain asked.

"Sure, no problem." Vanilla replied rubbing his arm to check it for fractures.

"Wonderful, I'll go run up to the garage and tell 'em to add my flatbed on your Trotmobile. When you're ready, come see me and I'll load up the carpets. After you get to town, head to the hotel and ask for Jacques, ok?" Kain explained, his grin widening as Vanilla nodded at the instructions.

"Now that it's been settled, me and Basil will wait by the gate while you get fitted out. Then we can head to town together." Marjoram said, heading over to the hulking yellow Trotmobile, Basil following closely behind. Connie and Vanilla climbed back onto the Earl II and headed up the ramp and into the garage. The air was thick with the scent of oil, and all kinds of parts could be seen. Some laid on tables, others hung from hooks.

"Welcome!" Said a lanky looking mechanic in a blue jumpsuit, one hand resting casually on his hip while the other brushed under his nose for a second before going to lay at his side. "Kain already gave me the details. And don't worry about paying, this one's on the house." He said, and with a whistle, two similarly dressed men appeared and immediately went to work.

Buffing and priming, unscrewing and lubing, Vanilla swore the work of 10 people was being done in the span of only a few minutes. The scrap arm was carefully removed, and replaced with one that resembled the good arm, only this featured a large knife-like blade strapped on. The peeling paint was chipped away, and a new, sleek amber color was applied, making the worn machine look new. A crane pulled off the tank, leaving an empty 'socket' that was quickly plugged with a small steel flatbed.

"And... Done!" The first mechanic said with a snap of his fingers. Vanilla and Connie were in awe as they looked at the now refurbished Trotmobile, which gleamed like a pristine new car fresh out of the factory.

"So cool!" Connie beamed, amazed by the job that the mechanics had performed in less than fifteen minutes.

"Take care now!" The mechanics waved as Vanilla turned around and exited the garage. Kain was at the foot of the ramp, several long wraps lying on the ground beside him.

"Wow, those guys sure did a fantastic job. Well here's the shipment of carpets." The man said, then began to place the rolled up carpets onto the flatbed, securing them with a bungee cords.

"There we go, all set. Once you're done delivering the goods, bring the receipt back and I'll give you a cut, ok?" Kain gave a thumbs up and then returned to the house. Vanilla then headed over to Marjoram and Basil, who were waiting near the gate opposite of the house.

"You two ready to go now?" Marjoram asked, to which Vanilla and Connie both nodded. Turning Marjoram pushed open the large wooden gate, opening the way to a narrow path that turned right. Following behind the yellow Trotmobile, Vanilla took in the sprawling sight of the river that ran below the tall mountain. The path turned right again to a sharp incline that terminated near a bridge that led to the river bank. But it was just as the group reached the midpoint of the hill that a tremor shook the ground beneath them.

"What was that?" Vanilla shouted, rocking forward in the seat of the trotmobile as the ground continued to shake.

"It is an earthquake?" Connie looked around, fretful.

"No. Look!" Basil yelled, leaning slightly out of Marjoram's trotmobile to point towards the river below. Walking closer to the edge, Vanilla and Connie shared a gasp of surprise as a monstrous robotic elephant emerged from a gateway on the side of the mountain. The river was fairly deep, yet the water was but a mere puddle in the footfalls of the massive contraption. An insignia could be seen displayed all over; that of a masked, purple elephant.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

A/N: Well I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter. Originally I was going to end at the attack in Nefroburg, kinda like the game's demo, but felt that the chapter had already stretched on long enough. Plus, I felt this would be a good point so I could get insight and opinions on any changes I should consider for this. Any ideas about the title would be nice as well, as I was having trouble settling on a name that would be fitting without sounding hokey or corny ("The Vanilla Chronicles" and "Vanilla days" sound pretty lame -_-).

New note: Fixed a few spelling errors. And Realized I had forgotten all about Vanilla's pendent! (Face-palms). But I figured I'll tweak chapter 3, so go and check it to catch up on that detail.


	2. Session 2

Steambot Chronicles

Yea, it's been a while since I posted the first chapter, but with the holidays and my tendency to be a little lazy, I got a little to lax on updating. Thankfully I already had most of this chapter planned out in my head, as the ending of this one was actually meant to be how the first would have, but I choose to cut it short so I could get the story up faster. Without further delay, the second chapter! (By the way, if anyone can think of clever song/movie titles to use for the chapters, it'd be greatly appreciated).

_Chapter 2__ ~ Rehearsal_

"That's the Killer Elephants!" Basil cried out with alarm, shakily pointing to the massive contraption that was stomping up the river towards them. It looked like a fortress or some kind of ship, but with legs. Three decks could be seen on each 'section', all with a central platform pm on the top, where several of the similarly dressed bandits ran about, following orders being shouted over an intercom.

"What is that thing?" Vanilla gasped with awe, unable to tell if he should be scared or fascinated by the technical behemoth.

"Whatever it is, it's trouble." Marjoram said, cupping his chin in concern. The mobile fortress was slowly approaching, and already it could be seen the bandits were setting their sights on the travelers.

"Look out!" Basil yelled just as a cannon located on the 'nose' of the fortress aimed at the cliff side. Backing away in time, the group shielded their eyes as an explosion ripped off a sizable chunk of the rock, leaving a smoky crevice and sending stones tumbling to the river down below.

"Get across the bridge, hurry!" Marjoram shouted with urgency, and immediately headed for a metal bridge that spanned a gap between the mountain and an adjacent hill. Vanilla and Connie followed quickly behind, but were stopped short as a hail of small bombs pelted them from all sides. Thankfully, they lacked the potency to harm the bridge, but it was obvious the barrage was meant to hold them down for the main cannons.

"Aiiiieee!" Connie shrieked, shielding her head as the small explosions went off one after another, pinning her and Vanilla to the spot. Marjoram and Basil watched with shock as the cannon lined up at Vanilla and Connie, who were still surrounded by a hailstorm of small explosions. Picking up a large stone, Marjoram hurled it towards the cannon, the entire upper half of his trot spinning a full 360 degrees to throw. The rock crashed into the cannons, bending the metal at a sharp angle. And just in time, the orange glow of fire heated the warped metal before the cannons violently exploded, the blocked shot going off inside the barrels. The explosion ripped up most of the forward-most deck, sending the bandits occupying it screaming for their lives to the water below before they could be caught in the blast.

"Vanilla, jump on and find if it has a weak spot!" Marjoram called over to the blonde, who was himself just realizing the barrage had ended while Connie slowly peeked her head up as well. Looking down, he could see the destroyed face of the mechanical elephant, black smoke billowing from the damage deck. And without hesitation, Vanilla took the hint and guided the Earl Grey over the edge with a leap, two hydraulics propelling the legs off the damaged, dented bridge. Landing heavily on the second deck, Vanilla could see the bandits fleeing as his trotmobile cracked the floor beneath it. A large generator hummed from inside the platform occupying the deck.

"That's got to be it." Vanilla thought to himself, then slashed at the platform with the Earl's sword arm, ripping the steel apart like a can opener. The large engine like generator was now exposed and Vanilla reached for it with the other arm, tearing out a mess of wires and parts with a jerk of the hand. Electricity hissed and crackled and Vanilla backed, shielding his eyes.

"You little twerp, what have you done!" A bearded bandit cried with alarm and anger atop the platform. But the only answer he received was the trembling of the construct as its legs buckled and small explosions tore their way across the entire machine.

"Hang on, Connie!" Vanilla said, turning toward the edge of the deck and jumping off the platform as the floor was blown apart by another explosion and landing on the hill where Marjoram's trot stood. Bandits fell towards the river as they jumped or slid down emergency ladders while their precious machine, now an almost skeletal shell of its former self crumpled into a heap, kicking up a wave of water that washed the hollering men downstream, their cries and insults drifting away with them.

"We did it!" Basil cheered, pumping a wiry arm into the air while the smoking heap of metal that was the massive machine lay like a broken body in the river.

"Great job!" Marjoram complimented, giving a thumbs up.

"Thanks... but that was just a lucky break. I'm just thankful you stopped that cannon from hitting us." Vanilla said, scratching his head bashfully. Connie was beside herself with glee, thankful that she and her friends had came out unscathed.

"In any case, we should move on. Who knows what those guys might be planning next." Marjoram said, turning away with a grin.

"Right." The others said in agreement, and Vanilla and Connie followed behind as the group headed towards the river bank and walked along the trail that ran along it. A small wooden bridge closed the small space from the end of the trail to another hill beyond it that led up towards a waterfall. The sky was slowly turning orange, the noon sun already slinking out of sight. Crossing another bridge that overlooked the waterfall, a dam built to harness the waters' flow, Vanilla spotted a large stone structure ahead, it appeared to be the walls of an old castle. But before he could ask anything a voice called out to the group.

"Hey! You guys are late!" A bossy sounding voice said, and a man wearing dark shades piloting a Blue Trotmobile trekked over. He wore a blue shirt and had his hair slicked back and spiked with gel, giving him a tough appearance.

"You're late too, aren't you, Fennel?" Basil asked with a grin, which widened when the man ticked, his sunglasses sliding down his face slightly.

"...Yea." Fennel replied with a defeated tone. "Enough chit chat, we have to set up for rehearsal, Savory's already waiting at the square." The man said, turning towards a wooden gate a few feet behind him. Marjoram and Basil nodded and followed, the gate creaking as it opened up to reveal a paved road beyond.

"You guys go ahead, I'll be there shortly." Connie said, waving towards her friends, who uttered a 'make it quick' before the gate closed on them.

"What's all this about rehearsal? Are you guys in a band or something?" Vanilla asked, having realized he had yet to address all this talk of instruments and 'practice'.

"Yea, we're in a group called the _Garland Globetrotters_. Sorry, I guess it slipped my mind to mention that." Connie said with a laugh. "Anyway..." She started softly after a moment, " I wanted to thank you for helping me out today. I know it's been a rough day, losing your memory, and then getting stuck helping the person who saved you." Connie said, staring off towards the sky, a half grin curling her lips.

"It's no problem, I had fun." Vanilla said, which made Connie laugh at his innocent remark.

"By the way, do you remember what you said back at the beach, about a blue thing firing a missile?" She asked, now looking a little hesitant. Vanilla then immediately recalled the image and nodded.

"Do you think it might have been a trotmobile?" She almost whispered, as if suspicious of her surroundings.

"Yea, it could have..." Vanilla replied, perplexed by the girl's sudden silence.

"Well... actually, forget I said anything. Let's head to town, there's someone I want you to meet... if that's alright with you." Connie said, rubbing her shoulder like someone who had just asked someone out on a date.

"Sure, as long there's something to eat, I'm starving!" Vanilla said, a low grumble from his stomach punctuating his statement. Connie giggled, switching back to her more bubbly self.

"Of course, we have plenty of food!" She said, then began to hum a song as she and Vanilla waited for the gate to open. It sounded like a joyful tune, soft and sweet.

"Welcome to Nefroburg!" Connie said with a simple gesture as they entered the town, the chime of a bell signaling the start of the evening hours. Vanilla was slack jawed as he took in the sights of the tall houses and streets filled with cars and trotmobiles.

"Whoa... it's like a kingdom!" Vanilla beamed in awe, marveling at the high walls that surrounded the large town.

"Actually this town was founded on the remains of an old castle. And was even named after the king who ruled it. Of course, that was a long time ago. Anyway, head for the bakery, it's on the first left on the road ahead." Connie said, pointing towards an intersection just a little ways from she and Vanilla stood. All around, Vanilla marveled at the town's size, and the sounds of people going about their daily routines. A man could be seen walking along the sidewalk, carrying two long poles, lighting the street lamps that lined the roads.

"There, we can park here." Connie pointed to a nearby lot where an orange cone sat inside a chalk line box, a modest looking store sitting opposite of it. A sign read; "Nefro Bakery" with a catchy slogan and a picture of a basket with breads and other goods. Disembarking from the Earl, the two stood in a wide open alley that spanned between the buildings near the street. An open garage door could be seen, as well as a tall, lanky tree in the center of the street.

"This place is huge!" Vanilla quipped, looking around at the town, a little further on the road they had been on, he could see a large pillar in the middle of what appeared to be a park of some sorts.

"Wait till you see Happy Garland, that place is even huger!" Connie said with a laugh, then tugged gently on Vanilla's hand, who followed her. "This way, I'll show you my house." The two walked along the paved ground, where a line of buildings formed an "L" shape, while another long building sat across from it, a bridge overlooking a canal could be seen and another line of buildings further beyond it.

"Here it is. This is my place, we're on the second floor on the left!" Connie said, gesturing to the smaller building from the L shaped one. Heading up the steps, Connie opened a door at the top landing to her left and led Vanilla into a modest looking apartment. A small table sat near the window that overlooked the rooftops of the adjacent buildings, while two beds sat near the opposite window. A pale looking woman in her late thirties sat upright in the bed closest to the door, a large book in her hands.

"Oh, Connie, it's you!" The woman said, her long auburn hair draped over her shoulders, and she wore what appeared to be a white gown. Her soft brown eyes were much like Connie's, soft and gentle.

"Hi, mom. I just got back from the beach, and you won't believe who I met there." Connie gave the woman a hug and then gestured to Vanilla, who waved, "This is Vanilla. Vanilla, this is my mom, Rosemary."

"Pleased to meet you, young man." The woman said with a kind smile, which shone despite her light complexion.

"I found him on the shores unconscious, it seems like he lost his memory." Connie said, which made Rosemary cup her mouth in shock.

"Oh my, I do hope you're not too injured." Rosemary said, coughing slightly as she looked upset by this sudden fact.

"I'm alright, thank you. I'm just glad Connie was there to find me when she did." Vanilla said with a laugh, hoping it would lighten the atmosphere. It was obvious that Rosemary was bedridden for a reason, and it upset Vanilla to see her getting worked up at his expense. Just then a knock came at the door and it opened.

"Hello? I'm coming in!" A cheerful voice said, and a woman, maybe a few years older than Rosemary appeared. Her bushy, curly brown hair was held back by a handkerchief and she wore an apron over a pink dress. But the thing that struck Vanilla as odd was the black frying pan clutched firmly in her left hand.

"Ms. Echinacea, it's nice to see you." Connie said, waving to the woman.

"Ah, Connie, I thought I heard you. It's great to see you darling." The woman said, her voice carrying a slight nasally accent. She then turned to face Vanilla, looking him up and down.

"And who's this strapping young man you got with you? Did you finally get a _boyfrie_-" Ms. Echinacea was about to say when Connie puffed her cheeks and clasped her fists together, shouting a firm "No!"

"Hehehehe, ok, I see. It's not like _that_." The woman said with a laugh, which left Vanilla looking perplexed, Connie beet red, and Rosemary stifling a giggle while no one looked. Calming down, Connie then pointed to Vanilla.

"This is Vanilla, I found him on Seagull Beach, he's lost his memory." She said, which made Echinacea gasp, the frying pan pressing to her face as she tilted her head in surprise.

"Oh dear, sounds like amnesia. You should make a call to Doctor Nutmeg, he might be able to help." Ms Echinacea said suggestively.

"That's a good idea." Connie said thoughtfully.

"Anyway, isn't it almost time for your concert tonight, dear?" The woman asked, looking at the nearby clock on the wall. Connie looked and nearly jumped out of her skin as she saw the time.

"Oh shoot! I'm late! Sorry, Vanilla I have to run. But why don't you head over to the square in an hour so you can see the show." Connie said, heading for the door as fast as she could, Vanilla nodded, and waved as Connie disappeared behind the door.

"I can tell you're hungry, why don't I get you something to eat." Ms. Echinacea said with a smile.

"Oh but I couldn't..." Vanilla said, not sure what to make of the hospitable offer.

"Don't be spoilsport, deary. It's my treat, besides, a friend of Connie's is a friend of mine!" The woman said, exiting through the door with a laugh, and leaving Vanilla alone with Rosemary.

"I'm sure you must be tired. If you need a place to stay, there's an inn at the other end of the walk here that has room open. But for now you're welcome to stay here." Rosemary said, her kind smile showing through once again.

"Thanks..." Vanilla said, looking quite humbled by the generosity he was receiving.

"It's ok, besides... there was something I was hoping to ask you. You see, Connie doesn't have many friends, ever since Dandelion moved away, she's always been kind of distant from everyone, as if she's afraid of disappointing them. So... If it's alright with you, I hope you and Connie can be good friends." Rosemary said, looking out the window next to her bed, Vanilla watching silently. He didn't know what to say, but even without being asked he already felt a strong desire to be by Connie's side. He owed it to her for all she had done for him.

"Here ya go, sweetie." Ms. Echinacea said as she returned, carrying a plate with a sandwich. Vanilla was practically drooling at the welcome sight of food, and happily thanked the older woman as she handed him the plate. A few minutes later, Vanilla felt quite sated to say the least, and thanked Ms Echinacea once again.

"Think nothing of it, dear. You need all the energy you can get, especially all the trouble you must have been through today." The woman said with a smile.

"Yea..." Vanilla said, rubbing the back of his head, bashful as always. He then saw that he had half an hour before Connie's concert.

"I'm looking for a hotel run by a guy named Jacques, I was asked by that guy Kain at the mill to deliver some carpets." Vanilla said, remembering his task.

"Oh, then you're looking for the Siberian Musk hotel, it's near the town square, you can't miss it." Rosemary said. Nodding quickly, Vanilla hastily thanked the two women and headed out the door, taking notice of the dark night sky that had quietly overtaken the town. Heading back to the Earl, Vanilla could see bright lights now lighting up the square, and could see people walking in droves towards it. Heading down the street, he saw a large sign that read _'Siberian Musk'_ and a spot to park. Dismounting, Vanilla headed inside, where a lavish atmosphere greeted him.

A thick, expensive looking carpet covered the floor, and the staff were neatly dressed in a green uniforms, two standing by each of the doors into the hotel. A man stood behind a counter, signing papers and occasionally looking up to check for guests. Figuring it was the man he was seeking, Vanilla leaned over the counter and whispered.

"Are you Jacques?" The man looked up from some papers and eyed Vanilla curiously, obviously wondering why he was being disturbed. His glasses gleamed in the light as he looked over the blonde.

"Yes, and you are..."

"Vanilla. Kain sent me, said he had a shipment." Vanilla started, but was quickly cut off by the man.

"Ah yes, the delivery. It's about time, I'll have someone go and unload your trotmobile in a moment." The man said, waving over a bellhop, whispering something into his ear. Nodding, the bellhop headed outside while Jacques pulled out a slip of paper and scribbled on it.

"Here's the receipt. It'll take a few minutes to unload your Trotmobile, so if you don't mind waiting, why not go and see the concert across the way." Jacques motioned, making it more of an order than a suggestion. Shrugging, Vanilla left the hotel and instantly head the collective cheers of people as they crowded the lit up square. Which was accessed by four sets of steps in 'X' pattern, with four beds of beautiful white roses in between each set of steps.

Getting closer, Vanilla could see Connie, Marjoram, Fennel, and Basil standing on a platform made up of four Trotmobiles, which were folded down with the fin like shields he had seen on Marjoram's trot folded out like a stage. A woman in a purple dresswith blond hair shaped like the wings of a crane was with them, who must have been the "Savory" woman that Marjoram had mentioned. Two microphones could be seen, one in front of Connie and the woman. Basil was holding a bass string, while Marjoram manned a set of drums, and Fennel held a guitar firmly in his hands.

"Whoo! Fennel!" A girl could be heard squealing amid a gaggle of other shrieking woman.

"Savory!" A man called out from somewhere in the thicker part of the crowd, along with cheers and whistles. Vanilla felt quite out of place among the massive fandom he was standing amidst of. Finally as the crowd calmed down, Connie spoke up.

"Thank you, everyone! I'm glad you all came!" Her voice boomed over the mic, speakers set up next to the stage of trotmobiles carrying her voice clearly across the square. The deafening sound of clapping echoed as the crowd cheered again, and the sound of music slowly starting up, a gentle guitar rift starting it off before the bass led the rest of the melody.

"I hope you enjoy it, _In Your Voice_." Connie said, closing her eyes, and Vanilla stared in awe as an angelic voice began to fill the air.

_When you're down and low _

_Try looking at the sun, keep your head high and everything is all right _

Connie's voice carried over the square as the song played, which sounded both melancholy, but happy as well.

_When you're lost and confused, you might be to _

_find the answers that you want above the clouds! _

_When you're sad and blue, look into the blue sky _

_and you're blueness might be soaked into the sky! _

Vanilla and the crowd of people watched in silence as the song continued, mesmerized by the infectious melody.

_When you feel like nobody, just look at the stars, and remember they are twinkling for you! _

_In you eyes I see a pond of troubles _

Connie opened her eyes and spotted Vanilla, a smile spreading on her face. She waved, which caused a few in the crowd to eye Vanilla, some with a jealous glare.

_You've been hiding from us all the time! _

_But you can't keep it all in forever... _

_Can't you see that we are all right here for you? _

Meanwhile, a guard watching over the gate towards Seagull beach heard a rumbling sound, and barely had time to dodge as several fast moving trotmobiles burst through the gate doors, showering the air with splintered wood. But before he could blow his whistle, a club bopped him over the head, and it all went dark.

_So let me tell you one thing; we're all right here for you and only you _

_We will always sings for you _

Connie held out her hands towards the crowd, yet it almost felt like she was reaching for Vanilla.

_So why not sing along with us? _

Unbeknownst to the townspeople, several trots were slowly trudging up the street before stopping short of the square. Hooks extending from the heels of the chicken like legs, firmly securing the machines in place as their drivers aimed the mounted cannons on their rides.

_Let go of all your troubles, be free of your mind and let it go! _

_It's funny how things turn around... just by singing out loud! _

Yet just as the music began to swell into what might have been a powerful chorus, the thunderous sound of cannon fire roared as a rocket soared overheard and blasted the building behind the stage. All sense of comfort from the concert was gone, instead replaced with the pulse pounding fear as everyone turned to see a terrifying sight.

And a single, stuttering voice cried; "IT'S THE KILLER ELEPHANTS!"

**TO BE CONTINUED!**

Yep, another cliffhanger. But I felt it would again be a nice place to stop. Hopefully the story will get more attention as I add to it. Granted, I'm grateful for the few responses it does get, but it's nice to see reviews and also find out what people may like to see in future chapters. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this entry, and I'm sure there are people eager to see the next episode. ;)

Til the next time!


	3. Session 3

Steambot Chronicles

Yep, been a bit of a wait, but it's finally here, the third chapter of what will eventually be an epic story. While it wasn't so much a lack of creativity, I was trying to figure out how to make things play out just right, since I didn't want to rush through the main plot events too quickly. I should mention now that not all of the boss encounters may occur, or some will be rewritten so they fit more into the story, because you have to admit the giant drill Trotmobile in the canyons doesn't really have any purpose beyond being how the fossil stratum is uncovered. But enough prattling, onto part three!

_Chapter 3__ ~ On the Rise_

Vanilla could only hear a dull ring in his ears as he saw people running around in complete panic, the dark blue of the night sky contrasting the orange glow of fire as flames rose from several of the buildings. In the distance, the familiar purple of the bandit trots could be seen darting through the streets like sharks, several encircling the main plaza, and beyond, spreading fear amongst the fleeing crowd. Vanilla turned and watched as the blue trotmobile of the band's guitarist, Fennel, unfolded from the stage and took a step forward.

"Marjoram, you're on defense! Basil, you take the left! Savory, get Connie to the back!" The slick man shouted, aiming his cannon arm as the other trotmobiles unfolded and moved forward. But Connie ran in front of Fennel, holding out her arms, she seemed quite worried.

"Wait!" But just as she made her plea, a missile struck a smaller, green Trot, knocking it backwards. Basil crawled out from the driver's seat, looking battered, and collapsed to the ground at the foot of his trot, a few cuts on his face. Fennel frowned, shaking his head, then looked at Vanilla.

"Hey." He started, pointing towards the amber colored trot near the hotel. "Help us out." He said as he fired a few shots at some bandits, then dashed off the square and into a crowd of bandits, Marjoram following behind. Vanilla then ran over to Connie, who was checking on Basil.

"Don't worry about me, just take care of Connie." Basil said to Vanilla, grinning despite the pain that ebbed through his body. Connie pensively looked towards Vanilla, then nodded and followed him away from the square. Clambering into the Earl, the trot raised into a standing position as Vanilla started the ignition.

"Be careful..." Connie said, looking urgently around as the chaos continued all around them. Vanilla felt a strange pang, something about the look of unrest on Connie's face made his heart ache. Just then, two bandits came charging around the corner of the hotel, sparks spraying into the air as the spiked feet of their trots scraped against the asphalt. But a barrage of fire halted their advance, and Vanilla looked over to see Fennel lowering his cannon, the barrel trailing smoke.

"Don't just stand there, kick their asses!" And with that, the slick guitarist turned around to pick up an oncoming bandit and toss him at another coming up from the street. Vanilla dashed forward and swung both arms in a wide arch, knocking the two bandit trots over, their pilots high tailing it with curses and other threats. An explosion rocked the ground, and Vanilla could just barely see a group of bandits running from a gated off building on foot, carrying armfuls of assorted objects.

"Look out!" Connie cried out, and Vanilla turned in time to see five more bandit trots bearing down towards them, quickly surrounding them. Cannons raised and poised, Vanilla frowned, there wasn't any way he could avoid being hit. Connie covered her head and ducked into the seat, waiting for the inevitable strike, but none came. Instead, the wailing of sirens could be heard, and both the boy and girl looked to see a line of silver trotmobiles running into the square, blue and red lights flickering on their shoulders.

"Retreat, it's the fuzz." One of the bandits hollered, and the Killer Elephants quickly dispersed, scattering across the streets and disappearing around the corner, a few of the police trot giving chase. Sighing with relief, Connie and Vanilla got out of the Earl and returned to the plaza, where Savory and Marjoram were checking on Basil, who was now standing, feebly.

"Looks like it's all over..." Fennel said, casting a look around the now smoldering city.

"But the city is in ruins... This is terrible." Connie said sadly, cupping her mouth as she watched people stumble around, looking about themselves at the damage done to their fair city.

"Come on, Connie, the police and fire department can handle this." Savory said, resting a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. The taller woman then looked to Vanilla.

"Better get her home, Rosemary is probably worried sick." Nodding, Vanilla quietly lead Connie away, casting one final glance to the tragic sight where a peaceful concert became a nightmare. As they entered the door to her home moments later, they were greeted with worried looks from Rosemary and Ms Echinacea.

"My word, you two are alright. Thank heavens." Ms Echinacea said, looking almost faint as she breathed a sigh of relief. Rosemary coughed, her own bated breath finally escaping.

"Is everything ok? We heard shouting and explosions." Rosemary asked, weakly leaning out of the bed to closer inspect the two teens. But a reassuring hand gently pushed her back, and Connie mustered up a smile.

"The Killer Elephants launched an attack during the concert, but thankfully Vanilla and the others were able to keep them busy until the police arrived." Connie said, trying to play off the earlier fright as if it were nothing. It was bad enough seeing her mother look so worried, she hated to add to that.

"Well the important thing is that no one got hurt. But those brutes really need to be taught a lesson!" Ms. Echinacea said, heading for the door,"But it's late, and we all need a good rest after tonight's excitement." She said, giggling slightly.

"Oh, but what about Vanilla? He doesn't have a place to stay." Connie started, looking embarrassed as she suddenly realized this.

"Not a problem, dear, I can show him the way to the James inn." Ms. Echinacea said, giving a playful shake to Vanilla's shoulder.

"Thanks." The blonde said as the older woman lead him to the door.

"Good night, Vanilla." Connie waved, unable to fight back a yawn as she watched the two disappear behind the door. Gently falling back onto her bed, the girl couldn't resist smiling as she looked out the window watching as the night sky gave way to the dawning light.

#

Vanilla groggily arose to the light of the noon sun that shone brightly outside the window. The owner was kind enough to give him the room for free, saying that it was the least he could do to repay Vanilla for his help in defending the city. As the blonde haired boy slowly sat up and stretched off the lingering sleepiness from his body, he felt something inside his right pocket. Reaching a hand inside, he was surprised to find a gleaming pendent, not unlike Connie's

"Wait... this looks, _familiar_.." The blonde thought, another tingle in his mind. But before he could wrap around this thought, a loud knocking pulled him back to reality.

"Vanilla? Are you awake?" Connie's voice carried through the door. Vanilla slipped on his shoes, which he had kicked off last night before just collapsing on the bed, and slipped the pendent back into his pocket before opening the door to greet Connie.

"Hey, Connie." Vanilla said warmly, then blushed as the girl giggled at his hair, which had become quite unruly from his rest. She was carrying a red suitcase, which she held idly at her side.

"Hi Vanilla, I wanted to drop by before I left." Connie started, trailing off at the last part.

"You're leaving?" Vanilla asked, surprised.

"Yea, the band's on tour, you see. And our next stop is in Happy Garland." Connie said, leaning slightly on the door frame as she looked past Vanilla, absently staring at the wall behind him. "But we'll be taking a break after our concert there, so hopefully I can come home to see you and mom." She added brightly, smiling.

"Well then how about I escort you to the train station?" Vanilla offered. Connie seemed stunned, then nodded happily.

"Sure! I'd love that." She chirped, and Vanilla closed the door before the two headed down the stairs of the small inn. It was far from being as lavish as the Siberian Musk, with only about six rooms, but the atmosphere was far more friendly than the stuffiness of the Musk. A kindly old man with graying hair stood behind a bar counter, waving to Vanilla and Connie.

"Ya sleep well, sonny?" He asked, flashing a toothy grin.

"Yes, thanks again for the free boarding." Vanilla said.

"No problem. 'Sides with that attack last night, I couldn't possibly charge folk after the scare they had. So don't ya worry yourself about it." The owner said with a chuckle, then went about cleaning out some glasses while he whistled a tune as Connie and Vanilla turned to leave. As they walked through the door, they couldn't help but feel a chill coming a smartly dressed man in black sitting at an island counter in the center of the room.

"Creepy. I wonder what his deal is..." Connie said, visibly shivering from look she felt from behind the man's shaded eyes. Vanilla shrugged, feeling just as unnerved.

The town was once again bustling with the liveliness it had yesterday, although the damages from the attack were quite evident. The station was located directly across from the plaza, and had been fortunate enough to not suffer much damage from the attack. Inside, Marjoram, Basil, Fennel, and Savory were waiting near a small gated partition.

"Good, you're here. The train should be getting ready in a few minutes." Marjoram said.

"Are we all set?" Connie asked.

"Yep, the trots are already loaded up, the instruments too. We're just waiting for the conductor to let us on." The portly drummer said.

"Yesterday sure was something else." Basil said, yawning and stretching, obviously Vanilla wasn't the only one who had gotten to bed late.

"Yea, at least no one was injured, just some property damage." Marjoram said.

"Still, it wasn't all that bad..." Connie added, smiling as she glanced towards Vanilla. Just then, a whistle blew and a man dressed in a blue uniform stepped off the train.

"All aboard! Next stop; Happy Garland!" He called. People then began to head for the gate to get their tickets punched. Vanilla stepped back, not wanting to get swept up in the line, yet found himself bumping into something. Turning, he looked up to see a tall man in white, wearing a silver mask.

"Oh, sorry." The youth said, looking apologetic, but the man merely glanced in the boy's direction, then boarded the train, Fennel watching quietly as the strange man vanished from sight.

"The train will be departing in 3 minutes!" The station master's voice called. Connie was heading towards the train with the others when she suddenly stopped, a look of realization on her face.

"Oh, that reminds me!" She said, quickly turning and heading back. Vanilla curiously rushed up to meet with her.

"Before I forget. There's a scientist named Dr. Nutmeg, but he used to be a physician. He lives up at Vision Ranch, east of town. You should go and see him, he might be able to help you with your amnesia." Connie said, then fished an envelope from her pouch, holding it out to Vanilla, "Here, take this letter." She added, then looked over her shoulder as the train blew it's whistle again. A more anxious look now played across her gentle face.

"Well, I guess this is it..." She half mumbled, looking like a child bidding farewell on their first day of school.

"Don't worry Connie, I'm sure we'll see each other again real soon!" Vanilla said, trying to be cheerful. Connie then snatched his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze while her face lit up with a smile.

"Mhmm! And you still have that harmonica, right? Practice on it, and maybe we could jam some time!" She said, to which Vanilla heartily nodded.

"Thanks, Connie. For everything." Vanilla said, but then whistle blew again and the hiss of steam could be heard. Connie immediately turned and hopped onto the train just as it gave a groaning lurch. Vanilla waved both of his arms as the train slowly disappeared from sight, leaving a quickly vanishing trail of dark smoke. Vanilla then turned and left the station, only to come face to face with a man dressed like a circus ringleader. He had a thin mustache and his dull blonde hair was starting to thin on the sides.

"Ooh, you're that dashing fellow who helped stop those nasty Killer Elephants." He said, speaking with a strange lisp of sorts, all the while he cupped his right elbow while resting his head in his rest hand. Vanilla nervously laughed, feeling modest.

"Yea.. I guess so." He replied, causing the man to swoon and laugh triumphantly.

"I knew it. Hey, would you mind doing me a big favor?" The man asked, a wide pleading grin on his face.

"Uh... sure?" Vanilla cleared his throat, the man certainly seemed the 'eccentric' type.

"Fantastic! The name's Dino, I run the local Arena over there." The man pointed across the street to a large building near the Siberian Musk, "But one of my combatants, Jimmy, ran out before the big match today! The wimp! Must have gotten scared when he heard about those thugs attacking last night. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd love to have you take Jimmy's place." Dino said, cupping his hands as he beamed imploringly. Vanilla nodded, and the tall man practically danced around on the spot.

"Wonderful! Just bring your Trotmobile through the garage door over there, I'll handle the rest! Toodles~" Dino said in a sing-song voice and quickly made his way towards the building, vanishing through the doors. Vanilla shrugged and made his way to the Earl, which was parked by the Hotel. Piloting it into the Arena, he descended a long ramp and was greeted by a mechanic, much like the one who worked at the carpet mill.

"Howdy, you must be the newbie Dino was talking about. Just let me do a quick maintenance check and then I can send ya into the arena. Anything you wanna ask?" The man said, taking a quick walk around the Earl, only seeing a few dents.

"Yea... what do I do exactly?" Vanilla asked, realizing he had no clue as to what the arena was all about.

"It's simple, kid. Two fighters enter the ring, whoever wrecks their opponents trot wins. Easy as that." The mechanic said as he tightened a few bolts here and there on the legs, "There, you're good to go. Just stand on the lift there, when it reaches the bottom, head down the smaller tunnel and get on the lift at the end, it'll take you right up to the arena. Ya got it?" The mechanic asked, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long drag. Vanilla nodded and stepped onto the metal platform, and nervously felt it jolt as it began to descend.

#

The arena seats were packed to the brim with screaming customers, who stared eager through the chain-link fence that surrounded the large sports field size pit in the center of the room. Rocks, barrels, and metal poles littered the area, while two square holes sat apart from one another. A lone woman, dressed in a provocative showgirl attire, stood atop a small metal tower. A microphone was grasped firmly in her hands as she waved to the hollering onlookers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Today we've got a special treat for you! This afternoon; Watch as D rank battler _"Bomber Boy"_ Chucky faces a newcomer!" The woman winked, eliciting excited cries from the audience. As if on cue, two trotmobiles appear, rising up from the holes in the floor on platforms. One was an amber colored trot, a blonde haired boy looking around with awe at the crowd that cheered thunderously. The other was a smaller, orange trot, at least a good five feet shorter than the former. The pilot, Chucky, had the resemblance of a rat, his whisker like facial stubble accentuated by the goggles that gave him a bugged eyed look. An orange headband held up his spiky orange hair, he wore a simple pair of brown overalls, displaying his bare chest that appeared to have a tribal like tattoo.

"You're going down, kid!" Chucky boasted with a shrill laugh, pointing mockingly at Vanilla as the announcer woman began a countdown.

"3... 2... 1! Fight!" The woman then chopped the air and the sound of a pistol ignited the fight. Chucky quickly closed the distance between him and Vanilla, his trot dashing in a zigzag towards the teen. Looking around, Vanilla quickly held up both arms, hoping to block. Chucky collided with the defensive arms, and both machines rocked heavily from the impact. Grinning, Chucky pulled back and then dashed to the left, quickly circling around Vanilla in a blur.

"He's fast!" Vanilla remarked, wondering just what he gotten himself into. Spotting a pole on the ground, Vanilla quickly snatched it up and swung it around, the Earl's entire torso rotating a full 360 degrees. Chucky never saw the attack coming and as he was rushing forward to back-end Vanilla, the pole struck and sent the rodent like man screaming to the ground, broken pieces of metal littering the ground as his trot broke apart in several spots.

A silence hung over the crowd, then shattered as they erupted into applause.

"DAMN IT! And just when I thought I had a chance!" Chucky yelled, slamming his fist angrily against the dashboard of his broken trotmobile.

"The newcomer wins! Let's hear for him, folks!" The announcer said, hopping onto the Earl and snatching Vanilla by the arm to hold it up in a victorious stance. All around the crowd cheered and whistled.

"What's your name, sweety?" The woman asked, winking to Vanilla.

"Um... Vanilla." The boy replied bashfully. He hadn't quite expected so much fanfare over a brief battle.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Vanilla!" The woman said, hold up Vanilla's hand and her as she lead him into a bow, the blur of the crowds cheers droning the air.

A few minutes later, and Vanilla was standing in the lobby outside the ring, where an excited Dino looked giddy as a school girl.

"You were _amazing! Spectacular! Fantasterific!_" The flamboyant man lavished the youth like an eager fan-boy. He then handed a booklet to Vanilla, which depicted a diploma like sheet of paper with the words: _D rank License._

"That's your reward, handsome. I was going to give it to that wussy Jimmy, but since he bailed, I feel you deserve to have it. If you ever feel like fighting again, there's an arena all over the country. Though I hope you'll come back _here_." Dino added with a look of longing.

"Thanks." Vanilla said, laughing as the strange man turned and left.

"Hey k-k-kid! You were p-pretty amazing out there." A voice said, and Vanilla turned to see a wiry looking man dressed like a paper boy.

"Uh, thanks." Vanilla said, not sure how to address the man.

"Oh yes, I'm Belmondo, the curator of the museum. Unfortunately all of the exhibits were looted last night during the attack!" The man cried, and Vanilla remembered the bandits carrying stuff from a building. Belmondo then composed himself and continued, "You see, our main source of fossils comes from Wagtail Canyon, which is located just outside the East gate. But recently bandits have been attacking the miners, and I thought perhaps we could hire some gladiators from the arena to help. So... if you wouldn't mind..." Belmondo trailed off, hopeful that Vanilla would catch on.

"Sure, I'll help out." The youth said, he figured he may as well do what he could to help out until his memory recovered.

"G-g-great! Wonderful. Here, take this excavation license, it'll allow you to dig at any site you go to. This is great news, I can tell the director and the museum owner! Thank you so much! Meet me at the museum tomorrow morning and I'll fill you on what you need to do." And with that, Belmondo turned and left.

"Guess I should head back to the inn and turn in early." Vanilla thought aloud, and exited the arena.

**TO BE CONTINUED!**

Yea, a bit abrupt in the end, but I couldn't really figure out any better way. I also felt it'd be redundant to have every chapter end on a cliff hanger, or at least so early. I have gotten at least the next 7 or chapters outlined, more or less, though I'll probably take a little break from this and finish the next chapter of my One Piece story, "Monster Mash". Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and I expect to see more reviews! (I'm not trying to be greedy, I just like knowing how people enjoyed each chapter :P)

New note: Did edits; namely I added the until now missing pendent! (Double-face-palms) But it should be better now. If anyone feels like I could have mentioned it at an earlier point, I'm welcome to the idea. Mostly I'm trying to keep it's importance a mystery until later, since the game doesn't bring it up till much later in the story.


	4. Session 4

Steambot Chronicles

My deepest gratitude to those of you who have still been reading this story despite the long down-time, I truly appreciate the continued support while I was busy with my One Piece story. Now that "Monster Mash" is concluded, I can give my full attention to this story, though of course I may occasionally break every now and then, I'll pretty much be making this my main focus for the long haul. As always, I'm open to ideas/suggestions for song/album/band names for chapter titles, basically if it's got a connection to music. I generally prefer ones that can more or less encompass the overall theme of the chapter in song way, or at least hint to events. Well, enough ranting, onto the chapter!

_Chapter 4_ _~ Discovery_

Vanilla stood outside the Museum, the large building having taken some of the brunt of the Killer Elephant's attack from the previous night. Numerous holes and scorch marks could be seen, but the structure was otherwise fairing better than most. Belmondo and an older, balding man were by the door. The two appeared to be in deep discussion before finally noticing the blonde.

"Oh, i-i-it's you." He said in his usual stutter, clearing his throat to compose himself. He then kindly gestured to the man beside him, "This is our director, I've already informed him of your participation in finding fossils." As Belmondo spoke, the larger, somewhat portly man shook Vanilla's hand.

"I can't tell you how pleasing it is to have you assisting us. Future students will have you to thank for the contributions to the continued study of history!" The man said, his stern, boastful voice sincere. Vanilla grinned, glad he could be of help, then turned to depart for the Earl, bumping into a crouched figure.

"Watch where you're going, you idiot!" Vanilla looked down to see a huddled man with a cane glaring from beneath a bushy brow. The blonde muttered a hastened apology, trying to avert his gaze from the angry coot, who harrumphed and turned away, wiping at his forehead with a _purple_ handkerchief. Vanilla boarded his trot and headed down the street, reaching the East Gate, where a guard waved him through the large wooden door.

Vanilla could hardly suppress an awed gasp as he took in the site of Canyon, a large area that looked like a drained lake bed. A steep hill ran down between the surrounding hills of rock, which overlooked the dig site like small mountains. The sounds of distant digging and the smell of dirt was heavy in the air. To the left of the gate's exit was a single track, likely for the railroad, which ran along another hill that went up and around the canyon. Heading down the slope, Vanilla coughed as the dust from nearby drilling choked his lungs, and his ears gradually filled with the loud hum of drilling. Rock was being chiseled away by the various hard-hat wearing men in their trots, all yelling something to one another above the noise. A large carved piece of rock sat in the middle of the area, while several ledges could be seen, small scaffolding allowing access to them.

"Oi! Over here!" A voice called to Vanilla above the numbing clamor, and he turned to see a mustached man with an white helmet. He was standing before a large wall of rock, which had been chipped at over time, but seemed to bear nothing of value.

"I got a call that Belmondo had hired someone to help us with our excavations." The man said. Vanilla nodded, cupping his hands around his mouth to call back, "Yes, I'm Vanilla."

"Ok, here's the low down; the last couple of months we've been hitting a snag. The current fossil sites have pretty much run dry, though we still occasionally manage to find something. But you see, the bandits that roam the area have been getting really bold lately, sabotaging our trots, stealing what little finds we've made, that sort of stuff. It's been especially hectic since we've started working on this wall you see behind me. My gut instinct tells me there's a fossiliferous Stratum here, but with the constant attacks, it's futile to try and make any serious work when those hoodlums could show up at any moment." The man explained, wiping away some sweat from his face and gently rubbing his temple, obviously growing frustrated from the mention of these setbacks.

"Well I'm not sure of what I can do, but I'll try to help as best as I can in stopping the bandits." Vanilla said reassuringly, even if a nagging feeling in the back of his head shouted that he was being too hasty. The man grinned, happy for the boast of confidence and then fished for something inside his trot, pulling out a walkie-talkie, he threw the small device over to Vanilla.

"Here, I already alerted the other miners that some help would be arriving today. Just stay alert and make sure to help out anyone that gives you a call. They haven't bothered us for a few days, and something tells me that's not a good sign." And with that, the man turned and began to chip away at the wall, alternating between a drill-bit and a pickaxe arm as he worked.

"Well I guess I should look around and figure the layout of this place." Vanilla thought to himself, walking away from the wall. The canyon was filled with mine carts, some of which were filled with debris. Suddenly the walkie-talkie crackled to life, the static screeching at first.

"_Hello? This thing working? I could use some help here!_" A panicked voice called, and Vanilla picked up the device and clicked the button on the side.

"Yea, I'm here. I'm Vanilla, the help Belmondo sent." The blonde said, letting go of the button.

"_Please, I need some help. I've got two bandit trots taking pot shots at me near dig site 4._" The static made some words hard to follow, but Vanilla still understood the desperation and urgency.

"Don't worry, I'll be there as soon as possible!" Vanillaresponded, then dropped the device on the seat beside him and scanned the area. A beat-up old wooden sign was posted near the center rock, and Vanilla spotted the arrow for the aforementioned site. It was just to the right of the slope he had come from. Rounding the corner, Vanilla could see two Trots that resembled carts with drills on the front encircling a helpless miner, pelting him with pellets as they snickered and jeered.

"HEY!" Vanilla called out, drawing attention to himself, and the bandits swiveled around to face him.

"What do you want, boy?" A lanky looking many asked from the large trot, glaring at the boy as he stepped closer.

"Leave the miners alone!" Vanilla yelled, doing his best to look as serious as possible.

"Or what? You think we're afraid of some punk kid?" The second bandit boasted, revving the engine of his cart like trotmobile. Vanilla didn't say anything, just keeping his eyes locked on the thugs. The two men exchanged bemused glances, laughing as they revved their engines.

"This ought to teach you a lesson about butting into other people's business!" The second bandit said, his trot charging towards Vanilla. The drill spun menacingly, the bandit leering as he prepared to ram Vanilla. Dashing to the side, Vanilla avoided the first attack, but quickly found himself in the sights of the other bandit, who cackled as he charged forward as well. Without even thinking, Vanilla grappled a nearby boulder and slammed it down in front of him.

"AH! Oh crap!" The charging bandit cried out, the drill wedging deep into the stone and getting stuck. Vanilla then hoisted the rock over the Earl, watching as the bandit bailed in a panic, fleeing as Vanilla tossed the boulder at the second, who likewise bolted as his trot was crushed under the rock. Once it looked clear, Vanilla turned to the miner, who was looking quite relieved to say the least.

"Thanks a million, kid. I thought those two were gonna trounce me for sure. By the way, I'm Taper." The man said.

"Nice to meet ya, Taper." Vanilla said, smiling as the man turned back to the patch of rock he was working on.

"Good thing you came today. The boss thinks these guys are planning something, given how their attacks have been a little infrequent lately and-" But before Taper could say another word, a loud explosion could be heard, and several cries of alarm.

"What the hell?" Both Taper and Vanilla turned to see a pillar of smoke rising into the air.

"That's coming from where the Foreman is!" Taper said, and the two immediately left the site, heading back to the wall. Just as they reached the small path that led to the wall, smoke blew by them, followed by the foreman's trot.

"Sir! What's going on?" Taper asked as the foreman finished a coughing fit, wiping away soot from his face.

"Those crazy bastards are dropping bombs from the cliff top! Nearly killed me." The foreman said, grinding his teeth as he pointed to a series of small bombs dropping down from the cliffs and blowing up the area below. Clouds of dust could be seen, dispersing and blowing about as more blasts followed.

"Those crazy fools are gonna destroy the entire dig site if they aren't stopped!" The foreman said, turning to Vanilla, "I hate to shoulder you with such a lousy job; but you've got to stop them." He said, coughing again. Vanilla nodded, and immediately departed for higher ground.

A branching set of scaffolding that led to various ledges could be seen near the center rock, and Vanilla wasted no time in ascending the structure. The cliffs were relatively flat, with a few jutting boulders here and there. Near the yawning crevice of the canyon, he could see a large centipede like Trotmobile pacing around the edge as it spewed bombs like a popcorn cooker near turrets situated near the middle and back 'portions', while several spikes rotated on rings near the front sections.

"Hey! It's that punk from earlier!" A voice yelled, and Vanilla could see that each of the 'segments' was manned by a bandit, all dressed in beige jump-suits and thick goggles. The strange trot immediately halted it's bombardment and the 'head' turned to face the blonde.

"Ah, so you're the little pipsqueak trying to ruin our good time, eh?" A gruffer sounding bandit said, leaning out of his cockpit to look at Vanilla with a wry grin.

"Leave the miners alone! They've done nothing to you." Vanilla demanded,feeling more empowered from his earlier victory, though he could tell the bandits weren't impressed by his scrappy looking trot.

"Or what? You really think that relic is gonna stand a chance against our machine?" The front man said, settling back into his seat and motioning to the other bandits, "I think you should have kept your sorry ass out of this!" And the centipede trot began trampling towards Vanilla, the ring of spikes spinning menacingly while it launched a volley of bombs. Vanilla dashed away, avoiding the minute explosions, but was quickly sidelined by the centipede, the spikes tearing into the Earl's arms and legs. Vanilla stumbled back, wincing as he heard the broken metal grind, he couldn't risk another hit like that. The centipede then began to circle around him, blocking any means of escape as the turrets fired more bombs.

"Damn it! These guys are crazy!" Vanilla growled, just barely maneuvering around the blasts and avoiding the spiked rings. It was easier said than done, the limited space and speed of the circling centipede made things incredibly difficult. Each time he dodged, the centipede gravitated to keep him within it's center. Then an idea popped into the boy's head, and quickly took a glance to see where he was standing.

"Not a very good idea to take your eyes off your enemy!" The lead bandit called, then drove the head trot as close to the Earl as possible. The spikes were just scrapping against metal when Vanilla shifted and dashed to the side, spinning in a tight circle as he kept himself far from the rings. The centipede went to follow, only to stumble as the front two sections narrowly stepped off the edge of the cliff. In that brief moment as the other sections began to back away and pull the others, Vanilla dashed and sideswiped the entire machine.

"Whoa! What the hell are you doing?" The bandit leader cried, clambering out of his cockpit to glare at Vanilla. His expression quickly shifted to one of panic when he noticed the others filling out of the trot as it began to teeter over the edge, quickly jumping to the ground and following after. The entire contraption fell over the edge crashing to the ground in a luminescent explosion.

"Crazy bastard!" The bandits shouted, not bothering to turn around as they ran out of sight. Once Vanilla was sure they were gone, he returned to the dig site, where both the foreman and Taper were waiting.

"Great job, kid! Thanks to you, those lousy punks will think twice about picking on us fossil hunters." Taper congratulated, the foreman nodding his own approval.

"Not only that, it seems the blast from their machine actually helped loosen a layer of rock from the wall we've been chipping at. And just like I thought, there's a massive stratum waiting to be excavated!" The man said, beaming with excitement at this momentous find, "And we have you to thank. Tell you what; we'll split the profit for any rich fossils we find and give it to you."

"Oh, no you don't have to do that..." Vanilla said, feeling modest. Though he had to admit the thought of getting rich was enticing.

"Nonsense, it's the least we can do for having you risk your life to stop those bandits. Just speak to a man named Mason, he's in charge of cleaning fossils and paying for each find." The foreman said, motioning for two miners, who swiftly chiseled out a sizable hunk of rock from the stratum, "Just take this to him and explain our arrangement." And before Vanilla could even protest further, the rock was loaded onto the flatbed, strapped down by crisscrossing ropes that held it firmly in place.

"Take care! And thanks again for the assist, as far as we're concerned; you're one of us, kid!" The foreman waved as Vanilla returned to town, the other workers each gesturing in turn as they returned to work.

#

"Simply fantastic! I must say I didn't expect such a rare find in just one day!" Belmondo cried with glee as Mason, a scrappy looking middle-aged man in a crusty apron as he dusted off a large skull to some kind of prehistoric creature, while other smaller objects sat beside, including a green stone that glittered through spots in the dirt that covered it.

"Sounds like you guys struck it big." Mason said, scratching at his nose as carefully cleaned off more fossils, an array of small bones. Vanilla absently scratched his head, muttering a sincere remark.

"Nonsense, my boy. Thanks to you, we can begin replenishing our lost displays. You'll see, in no time our fine museum will be back in business!" The director said, patting the blonde on the back heartily. Soon the fossils and other artifacts were cleaned and organized, and Mason began to tally up the fee.

"Let's see.." He said, nibbling on the eraser of a pencil as he scribbled in a notepad. Finally he muttered something as he came to an acceptable billing and tore off a sheet and handed it to the director. The man looked it over and finally nodded, turning to Vanilla.

"Ah, good. I'll see to it that you get your share, 1000 UR." Vanilla nearly felt like his eyeballs would explode from his sockets as he heard the amount, stuttering, "R-r-really? That much?"

"Hahahaha, you'd be amazed at the fortunes that can be made from fossil hunting. 'Course, that's more than likely the reason those bandits were trying to muscle in on Wagtail. Do you have an account I can deposit this into?" The director said with a grin, then noticed Vanilla frowning.

"No, sir. I"m actually new here..." Vanilla trailed off. The man hummed for a second, cupping his chin, then brightened up as an idea popped into his head.

"Say no more, it just so happens my nephew in Happy Garland works at the Bank. If you'd like, I can arrange for an account to be made in your name." The director said, giving another hearty laugh as he saw Vanilla's expression of gratitude.

"I...well... I mean... sure." Vanilla replied, still unable to believe the generous offer being extended.

"Then it's settled, I'll have your fee wired right to the bank. If you make it to Happy Garland, just give them your name and explain I sent you, alright?" The director said, shaking Vanilla's hand as the youth uttered another grateful reply. Soon after, Vanilla returned to his room at the Inn, exhaustion overflowing his now aching body.

"Phew... Today certainly was exciting..." The youth remarked, flopping onto his bed, "Even if I haven't recovered any memories..." He mused as he turned onto his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling, then falling to the small bed-stand, where a white envelope lay.

"That's right. Connie's letter to Dr. Nutmeg. I had almost forgotten about that. Now that I think about it, she did mention he might have some way of helping me." Vanilla thought aloud, allowing the amber rays of the waning sunlight to play across his face and stretch over the wall, "Maybe I'll go see this 'Vision Ranch' tomorrow." He yawned, feeling his fatigue sting at his eyes, sleep beckoning. With a final glance at the letter, Vanilla allowed himself to fall into slumber, Connie's bright smile flashing briefly as he closed his eyes.

#

Vision ranch, a large open plain situated north of Nefroburg, accessed through Wagtail. Tucked at the base of a large hill was a small farmhouse, where sheep grazed in the rich green grass. A pier sat not far from it in the middle of the area, occupying the shoreline of the large lake that spanned out from the edge of the area. At the far end, where the train tracks came to an abrupt halt, was a small station. Vanilla sat in awe, the serene setting had quite a calming effect, something that likely lent to the ranch's namesake. Deciding to check out the hill, Vanilla began to climb when he heard a strange _swooshing_ sound. Looking up, the last thing he saw was a falling trotmobile.

"Look out!"

~C_**RASH~**_

"Yo, kid. Are you alright?" A voice called, a bit of a nasally accent to it. Vanilla could feel a coolness beneath him, he was on the ground. Suddenly he opened his eyes to see two men looking down at him. One was portly and stout, while the other was tall and scrappy looking. Both wore blue jump-suits, though the taller one wore a sleeve-less shirt and a pair of goggles. Shaking his head, Vanilla sat up, groaning as the world around him spun.

"Yea... I'm fine... Just wish I wasn't always getting hit by things." He mumbled, standing up. The two men exchanged glances, then turned back to Vanilla.

"Well the important thing is that you're not hurt." The portly looking man said, looking very apologetic.

"Yea, we're really sorry about that. We've been conducting tests. You see, we're trying to make a _flying_ trotmobile!" The second said, enthusiastically flapping his arms on the last words. Vanilla shook his head, wondering if he heard correctly.

"Wait... a flying _trotmobile_?" He echoed, oddly intrigued.

"Yep, and you're looking at the first step towards that goal; The Flap Flyer!" The skinny man said, getting more and more energetic as he spoke. He then slapped his forehead, a look of realization on his face, "Sorry about that. Here we are gabbing and we didn't even introduce ourselves. Name's Otto, I'm the pilot. That's Willie, my little brother and the mechanic."

"I'm Vanilla. It's nice to meet you." The youth said, unable to resist a small chortle as he watched the strange pair of brothers.

"Pleasure's ours." Otto said, then began flapping his arms again, "Ah... To be able to fly in a trotmobile, wouldn't that be grand?" He said dreamily, like a child who wanted to become millionaire. Vanilla nodded, honestly finding himself more and more pulled into the concept.

"Yea. That would be awesome to fly some day." He said. Otto looked almost short of breath, "You see? This kid knows where it's at!" He pointed. Willie on the other hand looked a bit pensive, not nearly as energetic as his brother.

"...As you can see, the experiments could be going better." He sighed, taking off a pair of glasses to clean off the lenses, "Maybe flying trotmobiles really are just a fantasy..."

"Don't say that, little bro! What's the point of being an inventor if you don't try being inventive?" Otto said, patting his sibling on the back. Willie grinned, his spirits picking up.

"Yea, maybe you're right. If only Dr. Nutmeg would lend us a hand." At this, Vanilla interjected.

"Hey, you guys know Dr. Nutmeg?" He said, looking hopeful.

"Sure do. He's the father of Trotmobiles, you see." Willie explained, now sounding like a College professor.

"Whoa, I didn't know that." Vanilla said, amazed. The two brothers looked perplexed, but shrugged it off.

"If you're looking for him, he's up at that nutty-looking building." Willie said, turning to point towards a structure at the summit of the hill. Vanilla nearly did a double-take as he beheld the strangest sight he had seen yet. It looked like a robot straight out of a comic book, sitting back on a pair of long wiry legs, between which was the entrance to a garage. Beside it a small house connected to the garage, which only enhanced the bizarre sight.

"Thanks. I've got something of an appointment with him." Vanilla said.

"Ah, say no more. Most people who turn up here come to see the Doc." Otto said, then turned to Willie, "Hey Willie, let's try raising the speed of the wing flap! That just might give us the boost we need!" And before Vanilla knew it, the two brothers were walking up the hill, Otto piloting the Flap Flyer to a garage.

"Those two sure are weird..." He remarked, then got back into the Earl and continued up the hill as well. Stopping outside the house, Vanilla looked around.

"Hello?" He called, noting the faint sound of scraping metal. The air was thick with the scent of oil and grease, not unlike the auto-shops he had visited before. Opening the single wooden door, Vanilla cautiously stepped inside. It looked more like a cross between a lab and a workshop. Tables covered with tools and half-finished projects could be seen to the left, while the right opened into the garage, a spiraling staircase leading to a catwalk.

"Is anyone here?" Vanilla called again, then noticed a hunched figure near a workbench at the far end of the room. Wispy gray hair bounced around a balding scalp, while the figure wore a worn apron and simple slacks.

"Um... Excuse me?" Vanilla stuttered, not sure how to properly introduce himself to someone who might not even have noticed him yet.

"Shut up! I heard ya the first time!" A grumpy voice sounded, and the figure turned. An old man wearing thick glasses frown as he squinted at Vanilla, absently scratching his beard as he looked the youth over.

"Wait.. _Chicory_? Is that you?" The old man, Dr. Nutmeg seemed stunned. Vanilla said nothing, his thoughts suddenly being pulled back to the time he and Connie were in the shack by the beach.

_That name again..._

"Oh, my apologies. You looked like someone I once knew." Nutmeg said as he adjusted his glasses. "Mind telling me who you are then?" The Dr asked, impatience in his tone. Vanilla quickly fished around in his pockets and produced the letter from Connie. Handing it over, the old man quietly read it, his expression softening up in seconds.

"Ah, it's from Connie, eh? Haven't heard from her in a while. Tell me, how is she doing?" Dr. Nutmeg asked, motioning for Vanilla to sit in a nearby chair.

"She's... doing alright, I guess." Vanilla stuttered for a second, unsure of how to describe a girl he had barely known for a day. The Doc seemed to pick up on his hesitance, frowning slightly.

"I see..." He then looked over the letter again, "So you were found unconscious on Seagull and no recollection of how you got there, correct?" The old man looked up from the letter. Vanilla nodded awkwardly, not sure how to respond.

"Hmm. Let's try some simple questions, see that helps trigger anything." Vanilla nodded sheepishly, causing Nutmeg to frown, "Oh don't look at me like that, I'm a skilled physician. Now close your eyes and relax." He ordered, and Vanilla promptly obeyed.

"Now think back, do you recall anything? Anything at all?" He heard the man's scratchy voice ask. A frown creased the youth's face, the jumble of scattered thoughts rushing back to him like a wave. He saw that boy from before, but the vision was still blurry, like a grainy film. The two were standing by a ship, much like the destroyed one at the beach. He was saying something, but no audible words could be heard. Then he removed a gleaming object from around his neck, a _pendent_, and handed it to Vanilla...

"Ah!" Vanilla started, suddenly remembering. It was the same pendent he had found in his pocket the other day. Quickly he removed it and held it up, Dr. Nutmeg seemed surprised to say the least.

"That looks like the same pendent Connie has." He started, then noticed Vanilla shaking his head.

"I think someone gave this to me. A boy... He had black hair..." The youth trailed off, straining his mind to remember details of the vision.

"Black hair? Sounds like _Mallow_." Nutmeg pondered, scratching at his beard again.

"Mallow? Who's that?" Vanilla asked, the name sounded really familiar. Dr. Nutmeg noticed the realization and continued, "Mallow was some kid Connie used to talk about, said he lived in Happy Garland. Sorry, but I don't know much else about him..." Vanilla frowned, having hoped for something more substantial. Nutmeg saw the pain it caused, and sighed.

"Look on the bright side, kid. The fact that you were able to connect that pendent to someone from your past shows that you're on the right track. Just be patient, and I'm sure you'll regain your memories in no time." He said, patting Vanilla on the shoulder. The youth smiled, glad to have at least recovered some small fragment of his past.

_**KABOOM!**_

Both Vanilla and Dr. Nutmeg were startled by the sound of an explosion, and the pair of shouts that followed after.

"Brother! Are you alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine!" Vanilla recognized the voices of the two brothers, obviously having another disastrous test. Dr. Nutmeg strolled past, rubbing his temple as signs of frustration marked his wrinkled face.

"... Those two don't know when to give up, do they?" He grumbled, "Trotmobiles can't fly! I didn't design 'em for that kind of nonsense." He added, staring out the window as Willie and Otto were seen running around their trot, trying to put out a small fire that had engulfed it. Vanilla stepped up beside and watched the spectacle.

"Hey, is that your trotmobile?" Dr. Nutmeg asked, pointing to the Earl standing outside the house.

"Yea. Me and Connie found it on the beach the day she discovered me." Vanilla said, thinking back to that momentous day, where he had met the girl with the lovely singing voice.

"I can tell it's been through a lot. I take it you've had some run ins with bandits?" Nutmeg asked, and frowned when Vanilla nodded. The old man heaved a heavy sigh, something eating away at him, "I really hoped Trotmobiles would make people's lives easier. But I guess that's only in the movies, science being used to help mankind." He chuckled wearily, "Trotmobiles can be used for anything, it all depends on who's riding it. I wish I could make people see their potential for good, not the bad... But I guess that's just not possible." Noticing Vanilla watching silently beside, Nutmeg forced a wry grin.

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to prattle on like that." He said, switching back to a more cheery mood, "Come back any time you start remembering things, I'll see what I can do to help." He held out his hand, which Vanilla gladly accepted and shook.

"Thanks, Dr. Nutmeg." The youth said, smiling.

"Hey, if you're not busy or anything, think you might be interested in doing a little test for me?" The doctor asked with a toothy grin.

"Sure. Anything." Vanilla replied, curious about the offer.

"Glad to hear! I've been developing a new frame, you see. It's called a 'Stage Arm'. It's kind of like the ones Connie's friends use for their concerts." Nutmeg said, and Vanilla thought back to the 'wing' like arms on Marjoram's trot. "I tried using a light grade alloy so the frame doesn't put any stress on the trotmobile itself, but you know how science is; physical tests are the only way to get real results." Vanilla nodded in understanding, figuring where the conversation was leading.

"So you want me to test it out, is that right?" Vanilla asked.

"Sure am. Just wear it around for a few days, and I mean really get some use out of it. When you think you've gotten enough results, just drop in and tell me what you think about it." Dr. Nutmeg said, walking into the garage, where one of the folded wing-like frames sat on a table. "Just bring your trot around and I'll hook this up." He said. Vanilla returned to the Earl and piloted around to the garage, where Nutmeg used a machine of sorts to operate two robotic arms that removed the left arm frame, and replaced it with the stage one.

"Thanks for doing this, sonny. Oh, before I forget." Nutmeg reached into his pocket, producing a small paper bag that was clipped shut, "Give this to Rosemary. It's some medicine that I've been meaning to give her. And if you see Connie, tell her to come visit sometime."

"Will do, Doc. Thanks again." Vanilla said as he turned around and began to leave.

"Not a problem. Take care now!" Dr. Nutmeg waved as Vanilla descended the hill and headed for the path back to Wagtail.

_He's a good kid. Just like Chicory..._

Vanilla arrived at the entrance to town at about half past six, the sun already starting to settle on the horizon. As the gate slowly opened, a gun was pressed right against Vanilla's head.

"Don't try anything, kid. This town is now under the control of the Killer Elephants!" And before Vanilla knew it, he was seeing stars.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Hopefully this lengthy chapter will satisfy everyone whose been eagerly waiting for it. As I mentioned on my profile, my old computer died back around the start of March, and I was only able to get a new machine about two weeks ago. Luckily I already had the first 10 chapters of this story outlined, so I should be able to have chapter 5 out very soon. Again, I'm always open to any suggestions for chapter titles, scenarios and even changes/fixes for earlier chapters. In case you haven't seen, I did do a quick touch-up on chapters 1 and 3, adding the pendent which I had totally forgotten about until I started working on this chapter again. So go and check them out, and as always; Please Review! ^_^

Thanks again for everyone's patience during my absence!


	5. Session 5

Steambot Chronicles

Just as promised, chapter 5! Things should start flowing better now that I've got a much better, bug free comp. Of course, this summer I'm planning on heading north (to Maine) and getting a summer job, but I should still have plenty of time to focus on this series keep it at a steady pace. As usual, I will accept into consideration any ideas/suggestions for changes or future plot points (namely interesting ways to introduce side-missions; like Vladimir and Pablo) Anyway, onto the next chapter!

_Chapter 5_ _~ The Boys are back in Town_

"Just toss him in the Church with the others, we'll take his ride over by the train station for 'safe keeping'. Once we've rounded up every last trotmobile, we'll send someone to tell you to let them out." The voice was dull and muffled as Vanilla's ears rung, his vision a blurry mess of murky blobs. He could feel the ground scraping at his shoes, somebody was dragging him, the sounds of terrified screaming and panic could be heard all around. Finally his captors came to a halt, and the sound of a door opening could be heard, and Vanilla felt his body being thrown through the air, hitting the ground hard as the door clicked shut.

"H-h-hey kid, a-re y-y-you alright?" A familiar voice called, and Vanilla groaned as he was propped up by a gentle pair of hands. Blinking away the murk from his eyes, Vanilla found himself staring up at the faces of Belmondo and a small crowd of people. The jittery man was holding the youth up and checking him for any wounds.

"What's going on here..." Vanilla grumbled, inwardly starting to get annoyed with his head being used as a punching bag. Sitting up on his own, he could see he was inside a large cathedral of sorts, pipe organ and pews and all. A man dressed in a heavy black robe extended a hand.

"It would seem the Killer Elephant's have taken control of the town, all we know is that a little after noon, they busted through the Egret Brook entrance and were able to subdue the police." The man, a priest said, looking grim but hopeful, "At least they haven't harmed anyone, just roughed up anybody who tried to fight back."

"Y-y-yea, b-but they've gotta be stopped!" Belmondo retorted as he stood up, trying to act as angry as possible despite his apparent quivering.

"Be easy, my child. Be faithful and the lord will shine good favor on us soon and send those brutes away." The father said, resting a comforting hand on Belmondo's shoulder. Vanilla hobbled over to a nearby pew and sat, his mind soaking this new information. Nefroburg, under bandit occupation? It was just too much to believe. It seemed like not more than a few hours ago the town was peacefully quiet and calm, a storm passing over like a cleansing shower. But it seems to have only brought more trouble, rather than wash away the lingering sorrow of the attack earlier that week.

"Hey, you're Vanilla, aren't you?" The blonde was pulled back to reality from his thoughts by a voice, turning he saw an average looking man peering over the pew in front of him. He had short brown hair, and wore a simple white shirt with blue jeans. Vanilla nodded, a little perplexed by the timid looking man.

"I thought I recognized you. You're the new guy who took on Chucky a few days back. You were amazing!"

"Thanks." Vanilla replied. The man leaned over the pew and held out his hand.

"I'm Charles." He said as Vanilla shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Charles." The blonde said, smiling.

"Could I ask you something, Vanilla?" Charles asked, instantly looking bashful.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Well... Have you ever, really 'liked' someone?" Charles started, fumbling with his words like someone trying to deliver a speech to a large crowd. Vanilla was caught off guard by the question, the word "liked" echoing inside his mind.

_Have I ever liked anyone? Like been in love?..._ He thought, his expression melting into one of deep thought. Sure, he probably had family he cared for deeply back home, wherever that was. But something about the question of being in love, it resonated within him. And for a brief instance, he thought of Connie, her kind and radiant smile warming his heart.

"...Well, I can't really say for sure. I've only been in town less than a week." Vanilla finally said, looking bashful himself now.

"I see..." Charles sighed, then gingerly lifted a finger. Vanilla followed the direction of the pointing finger, where he saw a young woman quietly seated at the front row of pews on the opposite side of the room. She had long light brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and wore a a white blouse with a blue skirt. She had a very 'head-strong' look to her, as if she were one to seek adventure at every turn.

"Her name's Sheryl. We met a few months back at a party, but I... I made a complete fool of myself." Charles began, "Then I later found out she likes 'strong' guys, and well... I just don't know what to do." He trailed off, looking downtrodden.

"Oh come on, I'm sure she'd like you for who you are." Vanilla said, trying his best to think of words of encouragement. It wasn't easy, given his current 'lack' of knowledge. "Maybe there's something you can do to impress her. Do you have any skills?"

"Well... now that you mention it, I am a pretty good cook." Charles said, now taking on a pondering look. "Ah but who am I kidding? What would I even cook?..."

"Maybe I could help." Vanilla offered, only to mentally flinch when he realized that he probably didn't know a thing about cooking in the first place!

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Charles sounded elated, his eyes beaming.

"Sure, why not." Vanilla said, forcing a grin despite the inward desire to smack his own face for making a promise he probably wouldn't be able to keep. Before the blonde could interject and fix his error, the doors of the church were pushed open. It was one of the Killer Elephants, a large man with a mean face. He cracked a vile grin, as though confident that he was in complete and absolute control.

"Alright, listen up! If you folk think you can 'behave' yourselves, you're free to walk the streets of town. But let's get some things straight: **No Trotmobiles – No sneaking out of town – and most certainly, No Fighting back**. We Clear?" He said, scanning the room from left to right, making sure to see that everyone showed their (unwilling) compliance. Slowly, the people began to leave the church, though not without varying glances of distrust and unease towards the thug, who smiled with a toothy grin as the subdued citizenry passed by.

Vanilla felt as if he had stepped into some kind of alternate universe, where once cars and pedestrian trotmobiles roamed the streets, the vicious blur of purple KE trots thundered across the asphalt, tearing through the roads like stampeding demons roaming for blood. Bandits patrolled the streets in droves underneath a menacingly red evening sky, their numbers far exceeding anything Vanilla had previously seen in his varied encounters. Gangs of three or four crowded the sidewalks, shoving anyone unfortunate enough to stand in their way aside like schoolyard bullies. The atmosphere felt crushing, bleak almost, prompting many to flee back to their homes, the sounds of doors slamming and locking a deafening blur amidst the speeding bandit trots.

"This is just awful..." Vanilla thought, the only comfort he felt being that Connie wasn't here to see this. Suddenly he remembered Rosemary, and her medicine. Darting across the street and running past the Siberian Musk, Vanilla rounded the bakery and nearly tripped as he ran past the well beside the building where Connie's home was. Stopping to catch his breath, he slowly climbed the stairs and carefully pushed the door open, only to reel back as a frying pan briefly swung past his face.

"Ahhhh!" The blonde cried out, nearly falling down the steps as he landed on his rear, the door flying open to reveal Ms. Echinacea looking back with a startled expression.

"Oh my! It's you! I'm so sorry, dear, I though you were one of those horrible monsters." The portly woman said, the frying pan tapping her forehead as she looked utterly apologetic. Helping Vanilla to stand, she led him into the room beyond, then promptly shut the door after looking around with suspicion.

"Vanilla, it's good to see you." Rosemary's soft voice carried over from the opposite side of the room, where the bedridden woman sat looking paler than usual. She smiled faintly as she lifted her head from the pillow she was resting on.

"Yea, It's good to see you two are fine as well." Vanilla said, stepping further into the room.

"I can't believe those hooligans! Barging in like they own the place." Ms. Echinacea said, gripping the pan with both hands as she fumed, threatening to twist the cookware in half if she persisted.

"Be calm, Ms. Echinacea. Fretting over this won't solve anything." Rosemary said, shifting up into a sitting position, despite the frantic look of objection from Echinacea. "The important thing is that no one has been hurt. I guess they're only after money, not blood." She continued, staring out the window with a wary look, seeing a passing group of bandits chuckling as a terrified pedestrian ran away from them. "I'm just glad that Coriander isn't here to see this... I'm afraid it'd be too much for her to take."

"I could say the same about you, Rose. You really should lie back down." Echinacea said, trying to gently guide her back to a resting position. Vanilla then remembered the medicine from Nutmeg and retrieved it from his pocket.

"Here, it's some medicine from Dr. Nutmeg." The blonde said, holding out the small bag to Ms. Echinacea, who took it and placed it on the bed stand beside Rosemary.

"Oh, so you were able to see him. How is he?" Rosemary asked, smiling warmly.

"He's doing fine, though he is a little on the eccentric side." Vanilla said, nervously chuckling as he wondered if the comment was a little harsh, but was surprised to see Rosemary and Echinacea both laugh.

"That certainly sounds like the good doctor. He even made several of the instruments Connie and her friends use." Rosemary said, a fond look of remembrance in her eyes.

"Though he never was that good playing them, was he?" Ms. Echinacea chuckled, holding the frying pan up to stifle her snickering.

"No, he wasn't." Rosemary answered, softly laughing. Finally the jovial nature died down and the two women sighed. "I can only hope things will resolve themselves peacefully..." She mused, staring out the window at the purple sky, nighttime blanketing the town.

"I'm sure help's on the way. If word has reached Happy Garland, I wouldn't be surprised if they send out an entire army to chase these punks away." Ms. Echinacea said, doing what she could to comfort her friend, "Though if I knew where those neanderthals lived, I'd give 'em a piece of my mind!" Ms. Echinacea's eyes burned with a fiery intent that could probably heat the pan she held. And like a bolt of lightning, Vanilla recalled the bandit from the first day, outside the garage at the carpet mill.

_That's it, that must be where their base is. Now all I have to do is get in somehow._ Vanilla thought to himself. Then he remembered the bandit mentioning a 'logo', which was probably what they used to identify members. With that in mind, Vanilla turned to leave.

"I guess I should be going." Vanilla said, putting on a fake nonchalant look to avoid any questioning looks from the two women.

"Take care, dearie." Ms. Echinacea waved, Rosemary quietly doing the same as the youth closed the door behind him.

Nighttime had claimed Nefroburg, which should have brought with it a peaceful quietness. But instead the obnoxious sound of laughing and reckless abandon could be heard all over, the bandits circling the streets like drunken sharks as they jeered and honked their horns at every turn. Vanilla headed for the square, sure that he could find some kind of clue. There, he found the station square lit up like the sun, with dozens of the KE bandits dancing and drinking loudly. It was like a cage of monkeys, the thugs hollering and making themselves known through showy antics. There were guards set up by the train station, where Vanilla could see the Earl and other trotmobiles being kept, and a few near the arena, blocking both the garage and lobby entrances.

"Hey! Get some more booze! We're running dry over here!" A drunken bandit bellowed from the square to another near the Siberian Musk while he waved a mug and belched. The bandit he called to then turned and headed inside the hotel. Vanilla wasn't sure if following would do anything, but it was better than just wandering around aimlessly. Inside the hotel lobby, he watched as the bandit walked down a set of stairs that went below. Following, he found himself in what looked like a pantry, large barrels stacked against one wall facing opposite from a door, with another set of steps heading even further down. Soft light radiated from the room below, as did the staggering smell of beer, music could heard over the drunken slurring of poorly timed singing.

A sign near the entrance read: APHRODITE BAR.

Vanilla descended the stairs and into a large rectangular room, a piano sat on a stage near the wall opposite of the one alongside the stairs where Vanilla stood, a pool table could be seen not far from the stair as well. A long table started near the steps and curved around to connect to the wall a little ways down. Bottles of various wines, beers, and rum were stacked on a shelf. Tables littered the room, all of them packed with either KE bandits, or a few men who obviously didn't care about the sudden influx of criminal patrons. Though one man struck Vanilla as strange, a solitary figure who sat near the wall at the far end of the bar table. He wore a dark jacket, and had a world weary look in his eyes, his short spiked hair adding to his fiercely serious demeanor. The man locked eyes with the youth and gave a dismissive grunt, turning away to stare at his half-empty mug.

"Odd." Vanilla said, stepping further into the bar where a voluptuous blonde in a tight purple skirt and white blouse gave a sultry smile as she waved to him.

"Hello, handsome. Welcome to the Aphrodite bar. Can I help you with anything?" She winked, eliciting a deep blush from Vanilla as he stumbled awkwardly away from the woman, who giggled as she watched the youth completely act like a fool. Once he regained his composure, Vanilla weaved his way through the crowd of rowdy bandits, most of which were hopping on tables and jovially singing off-key tunes. Noticing one of the more calmer ones, he approached cautiously.

"Excuse me." He called, careful to not try attention from the other thugs. The stout looking bandit looked, having been talking to fellow members of his gang looked up at Vanilla.

"Yea? What d'ya want, squirt?" He asked, a mild annoyance in his voice.

"I was curious, do you guys accept new members?" Vanilla asked, blurting out the question to avoid any suspicious looks. The bandit looked him over, eyeing up and down before cracking a grin.

"Hell yea, we're always looking for new recruits." He said, sounding more friendly now, the tension Vanilla felt earlier quickly trickling away. "Just take this application and go see our chief of personnel, he should be at the museum. He's usually hanging out around there at this time." The bandit said, pulling out a folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket. It had the Killer Elephant's symbol stamped on the back, and words scrawled all over it, likely an oath and stipulations. Vanilla turned and left, returning back to the streets of Nefroburg, where the sounds of partying were still in full swing. At the museum, Vanilla could see the building was almost deserted, save only for a lone figure standing near some building supplies.

"That must be him." The youth thought aloud, walking over. Suddenly he recognized the figure as none other but the museum owner, the old man he had bumped into yesterday before heading for Wagtail. The old man was watching the party in the square with a disgusted look.

"Those fools. Why are they just lollygagging? They should be shaking down every poor sap in this town for cash!" He grumbled, shaking his cane in the air, then stopped short as he noticed Vanilla watching him. "Oh... you didn't just hear that, did you?" He asked sheepishly. "Hey wait a second, you're that kid from before. What do you want?" He snapped, trying to be as imposing as possible.

"I'm here to join your organization, the Killer Elephants." Vanilla said, putting up a tough facade as he flashed the application form. Snatching it from the youth's hands, the old man looked it over, then settled his gaze on Vanilla.

"Have to say, you don't strike me as the type we usually hire. Alright, let's get down to business." The chief said, quickly looking around to make sure no one was watching. "First some questions: **What makes you want to join our organization?**"

"To be known throughout the land as the meanest, toughest S.O.B ever!" Vanilla replied, feigning a cocky smirk. The chief nodded, looking mildly impressed.

"Ambitious, eh? I like that. Next: **Which do you find the most interesting; The moon? Uncharted lands? Global Domination?**"

"Controlling the world sounds just fine." Vanilla answered, making a crushing motion with his hand. The chief hummed with satisfaction. "Ho-ho! Going for the _gold ring_, eh?" He then removed a pen and quickly jotted down several notes before handing the paper back to Vanilla.

"Looks like things are in order. Just show this to the guards at the station and they should release your Trotmobile. They'll swap our logo for your license plate, that way you'll be officially recognized by the others out in the mountains." Vanilla nodded, and walked away, heading for the station.

"I've got a feeling that kid might be something special..." The old man said.

Vanilla arrived at the station a few yards from the museum, where the confiscated Trotmobiles were being kept. The guards eyed him like jackals, slowly stepping forward as they watched him draw near.

"Hold up there, bub. You ain't getting your machine back if that's what you're thinking." One of them said, holding out a hand to halt Vanilla's progress. The blonde retrieved the application and held it up, pointing to the Chief's signature.

"Easy. I'm one of you guys now." He added, flashing a grin. The second guard traded looks with the first, both glancing at the handwriting on the forms. Finally they relented, stepping aside.

"Alright, if the Chief says you're one of us, I guess that makes you ok." The first guard chuckled, disappearing into the train station for a moment before returning with a license plate. The Purple Elephant with the red 'mask' shined from the light of the town square. "Let's just slap this baby on, and you'll be all set." He said as he screwed the plate onto the Earl.

"Thanks. By the way, how do I get to Headquarters?" Vanilla asked as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Just head for the carpet mill. When you get there, head behind the garage and show the guard your logo." The second guard said, pointing at the papers. "He'll let you through."

"Alright, now you're trot looks the part. Though I think maybe you should reconsider the paint job." The first said as he finished installing the plate. Vanilla laughed, then waved as he switched the engine on and took off down the street, heading for the Egret Brook gate. A guard ordered him to halt, but then waved him through once he saw the plate.

"Take care, rookie." He grinned and laughed as the gate raised and Vanilla stepped out of town. The trek along the river was uneventful, the roaming bandits either ignoring Vanilla or shouting praise to their new 'teammate' as he passed. Soon Vanilla found himself at the Hayabusa carpet mill, where he parked the Earl outside the yard. It was quiet, the chirp of crickets could be heard all around. Heading up the steps towards the windmill, Vanilla hopped over the small sidewall and headed towards the guard.

"Hey, aren't you that brat who was snooping around here the other day? I told ya before; if you don't have a logo, then you don't have any business being here." The guard said, puffing his chest as he glared at Vanilla. The youth made a boastful scoff, pulling out the signed paper and waved it in front of the guard.

"This good enough for you?" He asked mockingly, once again pulling the tough routine. The guard seemed stunned, then ground his teeth as stepped aside, allowing access to a ladder directly behind him.

"Don't think you're so smart. If I catch you doing anything funny, I'll be more than glad to toss your ass into the river below." The man huffed, then watched as the blonde descended the ladder, which led to a series of scaffolding built into the face of the mountain. A single, metal door waited at the bottommost landing, a single light shining above it. Casting a cautious glance to no one in particular, Vanilla pulled the door open and stepped inside.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Yea, I'm a bit late on the promised posting time. Been playing Red Dead Redemption and whatnot. But I will say that things are really picking up as I go along. Soon I should be on roll and churning out the chapter more often. As always, I'm open to suggestions for song titles/chapter names and the like. Also, if anyone has suggestions for changes/revisions that could be made, I'm all ears.

Please review! ^_^


	6. Session 6

Steambot Chronicles

Wow, already up to six chapters. Granted, there's still a long way to go before the end. Still, it's cool to see I've already made this many chapters so far, and haven't even made the half-way point yet. I'm glad that everyone has been enjoying it so far, though I do hope this story gets more views and reviews as it goes on (what can I say, I love getting feedback). I apologize for the long delay in this chapter, as I recently moved up to Maine for the summer to look for work, but hopefully I'll be able to start getting more consistent with my updates as time goes on. Luckily though, I have planned out the first 11 or so chapters, so it shouldn't take too long between each one, and with each one finished I can gradually make outlines for future chapters. I know a lot of you are hoping to see more ConnieXVanilla stuff, and I can assure you that it'll be coming soon in the next few chapters, but don't hold your breath on anything really gushy just yet. Well, that's all for the current updates, on with the story!

NEW NOTE: Extended the ending.

_Chapter 6_ ~ _Underground_

It was dim, only the light of hanging lanterns lit the dark corridor Vanilla now stood in, a set of descending stairs ahead of him. The passage was wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side comfortably, with wooden struts lining the walls. A dank chill permeated the air, causing the youth to shiver slightly. However, it got much warmer as Vanilla reached the end of the passage, where the sounds of clanging machinery and the smell of oil overwhelmed the atmosphere.

It was like a factory. That was the only way to describe the set up of the large chamber the passage opened up into. A wide catwalk stretched from the passage exit all the way around to the opposite wall of the hollowed out cavern. While beneath it, the floor looked like a cross between a scrapyard and a garage. Conveyor belts strewn with parts, grease stains on the floor like an expressionist painting, and a massive monstrosity of metal hanging from the ceiling. It was none other than that same massive machine that Vanilla had fought a few days ago, signs of damage still showing on the now stripped and exposed monster as dangled only a few feet of the floor.

"They must be rebuilding it..." Vanilla stared in awe, curious as to how the behemoth of metal had been moved. The place was swarming with bandits, several of which were suspended from wires to reach areas of the colossal machine, ironing out dents, or welding new pieces of metal. Others could be seen carrying gadgets, widgets, and other assorted pieces of scrap here and there, either attaching them to the beast, or arguing over the precise location of installation.

"For bandits, they really know how to work on machines. I just don't understand, what could they need something so big for?..." Vanilla thought aloud, now looking more closely at the machine. He could see what looked like a platform on the back, was it meant to carry something else?

"Hey, you!" A voice called out, pulling Vanilla away from his wondering thoughts. Turning, he spotted a bandit, dressed in a red blazer and beret, staring at the youth a questioning look. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you before."

"Oh me... Um, uh, I'm a new recruit. See?" Vanilla fumbled through his pockets and procured the forms, flashing them in front of the bandit. The man quirked an eyebrow, looking at Vanilla with a curious glance.

"I swear that old geezer will let anybody join these days. Ah well, you look like you've got some brains compared to most of the monkeys we've got running around. In any case, we could use another hand working on the _Don_" He said.

"The 'Don'?" Vanilla echoed, looking confused. The bandit engineer made a sweeping gesture with one arm towards the colossal machine.

"The Don Elephant, the crown jewel of the Killer Elephants. Years of development have gone into making it, and though we've had a few 'setbacks', this machine will be our _launching point_ into a whole new era!" The man said with an enthusiasm that seemed quite different from the usual rough-housing nature Vanilla expected of the bandits. What did he mean by 'Launching point?'

"Well since you're new, I'll cut you some slack. Take a look around the place and get yourself familiar with everything, then report back to me." And with that, the man walked off, leaving Vanilla confused, but otherwise relieved that his ruse hadn't been found out. Casting one look towards the giant machine, Vanilla made his way along the catwalk, stopping short as two brutish looking bandits sat on crates near a single door, playing cards. It was immediately obvious that they were guarding something, or _someone_.

"Hey, can I get through there?" Vanilla asked, doing his best to imitate the same gruff voice the bandits used.

"Piss off, newbie. The Boss is busy with his meal and he don't want to be disturbed." The guard on the left of the door said with a bit of an odd dialect as he looked over his cards, "Why don't you make yourself useful and go find out what the damn cook is doing. He should have been finished with the boss's next meal ages ago." He said, standing up intimidatingly to look Vanilla in the eye. But the youth didn't flinch, much. He had to keep tough or otherwise the bandits might realize something was up. Curling his lip to one side, Vanilla put his best sneer.

"Sure, why not? And where's the kitchen?" Vanilla said in a faux nonchalant tone. The guard gave a chuckle, obviously approving of the tough response, and pointed towards a nearby ladder.

"Just head down and go through the door below us. Can't miss it." The guard said before sitting back down to continue the game with his partner. Vanilla slid down the ladder to the ground floor, where he could now take in the true enormity of the Don Elephant. It was simply enormous, standing taller than any building in Nefroburg alone. Turning around, he could see an ordinary looking door, where the scent of food wafted through over the powerful smell of oil and machinery.

"Hello?" Vanilla called as he pushed open the door into a mess hall of sorts, where an extremely flustered looking bandit wearing a chefs' hat greeted him.

"FINALLY! They said someone would come to take over the cooking duties, and that was like an hour ago!" The man started, grabbing Vanilla by the arm and pulling him towards a kitchen, "Um, sorry but I think there's been a mistake..." He tried to say, but the man ignored him, "Here, take this hat and get cracking. Doesn't really matter what you make, boss'll pretty much eat anything you throw you at him." The man said as he shoved the hat atop Vanilla's head and raced for the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go piss like a racehorse!" And the slamming of the door punctuated the brief and strange scene.

"That was weird..." The youth thought aloud, then turned to the kitchen, where he could see a large system of stoves and ovens, plates stacked high in a sink. "What am I supposed to do?" He said to no one in particular, looking at the spread of food items scattered across a large cutting table. "I guess I have no choice, I'm going to have to make something." Vanilla said... then slumped, slapping his forehead, "Who am I kidding I don't know the first thing about cooking! I..." The blonde suddenly trailed off as his vision swam, and that same tingle nicked at his head.

_A woman stood near a counter, happily humming as she prepared something. Light seemed to obscure her face, but her radiantly blonde hair stood out, and her loving smile seemed to shine through the shadows cast upon her face. The vision shifted, and Vanilla now saw the woman, who must have been his mother, showing him how to prepare a meal. It was a kind of meat patty, baked and seasoned with spices and used a small stake of sorts._

"Whoa..." Vanilla shook his head as the vision faded like a dream, finding himself back in the Hideout's Kitchen. Like a puzzle piece fitting nicely in a blank spot, Vanilla remembered the recipe as if it had never been lost. A grin quickly spread on his face, as he realized this would be the perfect way into entering the Boss's lair. Clearing a spot on the table, Vanilla began tenderizing a slab of meat, then dropping it into a pan, where he doused it with spices and salt. In a matter of minutes, the blonde youth was placing the steak burger on a bun.

"There. Now I just have to take this to the Boss and hope I can figure out some way of convincing him of releasing Nefroburg." Placing the burger on a platter and sealing it with a lid, Vanilla quickly departed from the kitchen and carefully climbed up the ladder back to the catwalk.

"Here, I've got the boss's meal." Vanilla said, acting impatient.

"About time, he's been waiting forever!" The guard from before said as he opened the door for Vanilla. Inside was a pale imitation of a throne room, with a gluttonous 'king' seated on a throne. A banner bearing the Killer Elephant symbol hung behind the antique throne, where a large, pot-bellied man sat, loudly munching away on a drumstick. He wore a yellow bandana and a pair of goggles, while an unzipped blue bomber jacket exposed a flabby belly. Two brunettes, twins, stood to either side of him dressed in skimpy red outfits, both holding platters with pineapples.

"Yer late! I almost ran out of food here!" The man said as he tossed the chicken bone away with slurping sound. His scuzzy beard was covered in flecks of food, only adding to the impression that he was a crazed slob. Vanilla fought back the revulsion he felt from the man's poor table manners and offered the burger, which the man greedily accepted and began devouring with the voraciousness of a wolf.

"Mhmm, that hit the spot. What do you call that?" Boss Elephant asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Vanilla was about to answer when the door opened. It was the cook from before, looking infuriated.

"Hey, stop that guy! He ain't the replacement cook we hired, he's some kind of spy." The man said, pointing an accusing finger towards Vanilla, who froze with tension as the Boss turned to look at him with a smirk.

"So, trying to pull a fast one on us, eh? Let me guess, a rebellious citizen who thinks he can take on a gang of bandits all by himself." The boss said, chin resting on one hand as he eyed the youth.

"Let the town go. You have no right terrorize people like this!" Vanilla said, grabbing the chefs' hat and tossing it to the ground as he made his defiant stand. Boss Elephant only grinned wider, seemingly impressed by the bold act.

"You've definitely got real guts to stand up to me like this, I'll give you that." He said, standing up from the throne, "You." He pointed to the real chef, who stiffened and saluted, "Tell those grease-monkeys to get my trotmobile ready, I'll be fighting this brat!" The boss said, turning back to face Vanilla, who glared back with determination.

In a matter of moments, Vanilla found himself in the hanger area, the Earl having been brought in through the large gate where the Don Elephant had emerged from. Across from him, Boss Elephant stood inside the cockpit of a huge trotmobile. It had to be at least twice the size of the Earl, both in height and bulk, the torso alone nearly the size of the Earl entirely. It had two arms with spiked balls on chains while a horse-like set of legs supported the entire machine, a grill in the shape of tusks adding to the 'elephant' like design. A spiked, metal canopy protected the cockpit, where the boss leaned out to showoff to his cheering cronies.

"Now it's payback for getting in our way." Boss Elephant cracked his knuckles as he lowered down into the driver's seat, his grin still as broad as ever. Vanilla felt a nagging feeling, one that told him that unlike the other encounters he had had, this one couldn't be solved by tossing a rock or getting lucky with swinging his arms around. Several of the bandits stood on the catwalk above, cheering loudly for their boss and hurling unmentionable insults at Vanilla.

At the sun of a gunshot, courtesy of the red blazer bandit, the fight was on. Like the bang from the gun, Boss Elephant fired one of his spiked balls at Vanilla. The youth just barely dashed to the side as the projectile came at him, smashing the floor where he previously stood. But just when he thought he could catch his breath, the second spiked ball came flying, only to crash into a line of bandit trots that were being set for repairs and crush them into piles of scrap. Vanilla pivoted around and dashed behind another unmanned trotmobile just as the first spiked ball fired and smashed it to pieces.

"This guy doesn't let up! Those things have got some serious range." He thought to himself as he dashed all the way to the far wall of the room, some 30 or so yards from where Boss Elephant stood, who retracted both spike balls back into place as he eyed Vanilla. Cracking another toothy grin, Boss Elephant charged forward, the horse legs propelling his trot towards forward with incredible speed. Vanilla just barely raised his stage arm to block the incoming left hook, the metal fist scraping against the wing as it connected. Vanilla made a bold move and dashed forward, using both arms to push at Boss with everything the Earl could muster.

"Hahahahaha! You really think you can take the Mad Elephant?" Boss said with a laugh, then grabbed Vanilla by the Earl's shoulder, hoisting him off the ground effortlessly.

"Whoa!" Vanilla cried out, gripping the handlebar beside the driver's wheel as he was thrown across the room, near the Don Elephant's dangling legs.

"Give it up, kid. You can't possibly hope to beat me." Boss taunted, slowly closing in on Vanilla. The youth groaned as he shook the inertia from his head and got the Earl back on its feet, an unnerving creaking coming from the sword arm and the legs. Oil could be seen dripping from various fractures and dents, this fight wouldn't be lasting much longer.

"Have to think! He's obviously too heavy to throw, and likely just as tough to put a dent in. I'm gonna need something bigger than the Earl..." Vanilla thought aloud, then remembered he was underneath the Don Elephant's hind legs, and suddenly thought of a plan.

"Hey, fatso! Over here!" Vanilla called as he jumped up and grabbed onto one of the Don's feet. Boss Elephant frowned and fired the left spiked ball. Just as it smashed into the side of the leg, Vanilla released his grip and fell back to the floor, letting the leg swing into the ball and causing it to become embedded in it. A cry of dismay could be heard from the catwalk, the red bandit nervously cringing.

"Missed me!" The blonde taunted with a mock sing-song, dashing for the don's forelegs.

"Why you, little brat!" Boss bellowed, losing himself to his growing frustration. He took aim as Vanilla made another leap, firing just as the youth soared by the left foreleg, the right spiked ball becoming ensnared in the twisted mess of metal of the don's other leg. A lurching groan could be heard as the don visibly lurched from the two hits, and the shift was enough to pull the Boss and his trot across the floor and under the don.

"What the hell?" Boss looked around with sudden realization as the two legs tore apart from the damage caused by the spike weapons, showering the bandit leader in pieces of scrap and gears. In a matter of seconds the Killer Elephants were left staring in wide-eyed surprised as their boss was buried under a pile of junk, a small plume of smoke rising from the now damaged trot. A silence hung over the room, then was broken by shouts of anger.

"You little bastard! How dare you hurt our boss?" Some cried, while others leaping down from the catwalk and quickly surrounding Vanilla, guns aimed at the blonde haired youth. Vanilla held up his hands, keeping still as the bandits readied to fire. Suddenly a bellowing yell echoed from near the wreckage of the Don.

"Lay off, you numbskulls!" Boss Elephant said, emerging from the scrap pile with nary a scratch on him. He pulled himself free and dropped to the floor, where several of his men quickly rushed to his side.

"Yo, boss. Are you alright?"

"It's ok Boss. We'll deal with this little scumbag and then get you a doctor."

"Yea, after this, we'll go and clock some of those fools back in town to teach 'em a lesson." But the small group was shoved away, by their own leader, who proceeded to step forward to Vanilla who had been escorted from the Earl.

"I told you idiots, don't mess with him. Now back off and put away yer guns." The fat man said with a glare that silenced any further protest from his subordinates. Once they were silent and had lowered their weapons, he turned to look at Vanilla.

"I have to say kid, you really are a tough one. Never thought you'd actually beat me." Boss Elephant said, his grin returning as he surprised Vanilla with a congratulatory slap on the back. It was strange, not more than a few minutes ago the man was ready to crush Vanilla like a bug, now he was acting like a kindly older brother.

"I like ya, kid. So from now on, you're the boss!" A beat...

"WHAT?" A collective cry of disbelief was heard, every bandit in the area looking stunned with jaws agape. Vanilla was just as stunned, partially wondering if he had somehow misunderstood. Brushing back the bandits that still lingered around the youth, the large man gave Vanilla a knowing look.

"So you want the town freed, is that it?" Vanilla almost didn't hear the question, then nodded when the words finally registered with him. The Ex-Boss grinned, then turned to one of the bandits.

"Go and send a pigeon. Tell 'em we're pulling out of town." The bandit saluted to the large man and quickly disappeared up the ladder. "What are you idiots standing around for? Get this place cleaned up! We're gonna throw a party in honor of our new boss!" Ex-Boss shouted to the other bandits who stood around still looking in shock.

"Y-yes sir!" They said and quickly dispersed, several of them beginning the process of digging out the Mad Elephant from under the scrap pile. As they worked, Vanilla watched as the red bandit stood before the Don Elephant, mouth agape.

"Hey, I'm sorry about your machine... again." Vanilla said, feeling a little sorry for the man.

"It's no problem, boss. We'll just rebuild the Don again!" Ex-Boss said, nudging the red bandit with a chuckle, "Right?" To which the red bandit gave a sigh, then brightened up with a wry smile, "Yea, and it'll be even better than the last one." And with that the red jacket bandit charged off, shouting orders to the scrap picking bandits. Soon after tables and chairs were brought out, and before Vanilla could knew it, a full blown party was under way. The sound of drunken singing and laughter blurring together in the hideout. Vanilla found himself enjoying his new celebrity as the boss, though the constant offers of drinks were getting a bit tiring.

"Looks like my hunch about hiring was right." A dry voice said, and Vanilla looked up to see the owner of the museum looking back.

"What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see the boss. Of course, that was the _former_ boss." The old man said, casting a quick glance to the Ex-Boss who was once more stuffing his face with food. "There's something I want to show you." The man said, motioning for Vanilla to follow. The two then proceeded down a corridor, where the living quarters likely were.

"I'm sure you're probably wondering exactly what the ultimate goal of the Killer Elephant's is, right?" The Chief asked as he led Vanilla through the hall.

"Money?" The youth ventured, suddenly unsure. The old man gave a soft chuckle, then wagged his cane in the air as he clicked his tongue.

"That's just the means to an end." He said as he stopped by a large door, "The real motivation for our organization, is this." He then pushed open the door, revealing a large bedroom. It wasn't the queen-sized bed that caught Vanilla's attention, but what lay strewn all across the room. Papers, books, and models, all depicting the moon. Piles upon piles of the materials covered nearly every square inch of the room like the drawing room of a frenzied artist.

"The Ex-boss, always hated maps and globes of the world since he was a kid. No matter where you go on this world, someone has likely already been there. But there's one place no one has ever been to; the Moon!" As the Chief spoke, Vanilla walked around the room, taking note of the various charts and graphs, some depicting childish means of traveling to the moon, and others with more focus and well thought out.

"I never would have thought... so that's why you guys are always stealing money." Vanilla said, looking at a portrait of what appeared to be a young Boss Elephant in some kind of ship flying towards the moon. The chief stepped up beside him, a faint smile as he looked at the picture.

"Yes. I know it's not a very honorable way of reaching the goal, but how else were we to get the funds we needed?" The Chief asked, honestly sounding regretful.

"There's plenty of things you guys can do! You could use your trotmobiles to fix Nefroburg, show that you're really sorry for wrecking it." Vanilla blurted, trying to remain positive despite the fact that he was speaking with the very same people who nearly hurt Connie and her friends. He couldn't help but still have lingering anger towards them, but now that he knew what they were really after, he felt some remorse. The Chief looked thoughtful, obviously taking the outburst to consideration.

"Maybe you're right... To be honest, the Boss himself said he didn't really like hurting people just to achieve his dream. But I don't know, would _they_ be willing to let us help?" The Chief thought aloud, doubtful if the townspeople would truly forgive them for their previous crimes.

"I'm sure they would, you just have to stop stealing and attacking people." Vanilla said, just as unsure, but not as easily deterred from his assumption.

"I'll have to talk it out with the Ex-boss, but if you really think it can work..." Just then the door opened and the Ex-boss himself entered, looking quite wasted.

"Boss? What are you doing heeere? A party isn't a party if the guest of honor ain't 'round." Ex-Boss said, taking a swig from a bottle, he then grabbed Vanilla by the shoulder, pulling down the hall.

"Whoohoo! Party!" Ex-boss shouted, stirring up the other bandits into making similar shouts and cheers. As the Chief watched the youth get pulled to a table and offered a platter of food, he couldn't resist another wry grin.

"That kid, really is something special. Who knows, we just might make history..."

#

The sun was starting to rise high in the sky as Vanilla wandered back to Nefroburg, his eyes feeling heavy with fatigue, and his ears ringing with the lingering sound of boisterous partying. The celebration had lasted well into the morning before the bandits finally wound down and passed out. After a brief rest, Vanilla agreed that Bobby, the Ex-boss, would remain as acting leader of the KE in his absence. Of course the youth had to admit he was starting to enjoy his new position, but largely had just made the decision so he could leave the hideout and get some rest. As the gates to town opened, Vanilla suddenly found himself before a large crowd of cheering people.

"The hero of Nefroburg!" Belmondo's voice could be heard as people clapped and cheered. Vanilla now felt bashfulness as he slowly made his way to the bakery parking spot, the people following after, still shouting their compliments and cheers. Just as he stepped out of Earl, he was nearly smothered by the joyous townspeople as they crowded around him.

"Way to go, kid!"

"Great job kicking those bandits to the curb."

"You're a real hero." Vanilla felt overwhelmed, but smiled nonetheless as people offered their gratitude. But it was a single, familiar voice that caught him off guard.

"Vanilla!" Turning, Vanilla nearly fell over as Connie embraced him in a tight hug, her eyes sparkling with tears. She held him close, as though afraid he would disappear. The sounds of the crowd faded, being drowned out by Connie's joyful cries of relief. Soon the crowd dispersed, the people finally free to return to their everyday lives, and Vanilla led the still clinging Connie back to her home.

"And that's how I defeated their boss and freed the town." Vanilla cheerfully ended his recount of the battle with Bobby. A silence hung in the apartment as Connie, her mother, and Ms. Echinacea all stared in surprise at the youth.

"Oh my goodness. It's a good thing you weren't hurt." Rosemary said, looking faint after the boy finished. Connie sat with Vanilla at the small table near the window, clutching Vanilla's hand tenderly, something that the boy didn't mind in the least.

"I overheard reports in Happy Garland about the town. I was so worried about Mom and you that I just hopped on the train without thinking. Oh man... I hope the others aren't gonna be mad." The girl fretted, drawing back one hand and chewing on a finger nervously.

"Don't sweat it, sweety. I'm sure Fennel and the others will understand." Ms. Echinacea said reassuringly. Connie smiled wearily, not completely swayed. Vanilla chuckled inwardly, glad to see Connie was still so considerate and passionate as always. He then yawned, feeling incredibly lightheaded.

"Are you alright?" Connie asked, turning back to the boy as she saw him slump forward and then sit up with a start.

"Yea.. I'm fine... Just... tired." He said, unable to resist another yawn as the fatigue gripped him. Connie ushered for him to stand and towards her spare bed.

"Here, lie down." She said, guiding the boy onto the soft mattress. Vanilla found himself too tired to resist, and simply allowed the angelic girl to settle him on the bed.

"Good night." She heard her say, her vibrant smile still shining brightly as he closed his eyes and drifted.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Again, I apologize for the overly long delay in updating this story. Between looking for jobs, and my usual distractions, I barely did more than a few lines every now and then (smacks self on head). So while I can't promise a more consistent update schedule, I will promise to try and not take as long between chapters in the future. Anyway, I'm sure many of you will be happy to see Connie coming back into the story, and I can guarantee she won't be going anywhere anytime soon. As always, I hope for a review, and of course suggestions for song/album titles to use for chapter names. This one however I decided to name "Underground" realizing it was also the name of a genre of music, which fitted pretty nicely if I may say so. I will admit thought, I'm not quite as happy with this chapter as I'd like to be, but I hope everyone will enjoy nonetheless. In the meantime, I have a little fun proposition for anyone interested. I came up with a concept for AU story with the Bumpy Trot gang. The story would follow Vanilla as a transfer student to a new high school, and joining the music club. If anyone wants to use the idea, they are welcome to.

Anyway, thanks for your patience (and the views/hits) and stay tuned for chapter 7 (really need a catchy song title name for it, a desert themed episode :D).


	7. Session 7

Steambot Chronicles

Hmm, yet another long delay. Of course I was busy looking for work and helping out around the house. Another little issue was trying to come up with a chapter name. I really don't know why people can't be bothered to take a second out of their life to share their own opinions on good music. Anyway, this chapter should be nice and lengthy to make up for the long absence. And as always, I'm open to ideas of how to implement the various side-quest characters (though I advise you go into detail about how to have Vanilla interact with them). I should point out that for anyone who hasn't read the story in a while to reread chapter 6, as I extended the ending of that after some people pointed out how abruptly it ends. Well enough prattling, here's chapter 7!

_Chapter 7_ ~ _Circle in the sand_

Vanilla found himself lying in a field, a serene and calm feeling washing over him like a gentle wave. A pleasant breeze blew across the field, ruffling the flowers like a the waves of the ocean. Connie laid beside him, giggling with her infectious laugh as the two stared up at the sky. It was perfect, tranquil scene, only made better because of Connie.

"Vanilla..." Connie turned to the boy with an alluring look in her eyes, her voice sounding hauntingly faint, then a thundering crack sounded and Vanilla's eyes filled with light.

"Ah!" The youth sat up right in Connie's bed, the echoing sound of thunder in the distance, an afternoon shower battering against the window as it came down heavily. He righted himself and sat on the edge of the bed, shaking the weariness from his clearing head. The room was empty save only for Vanilla and Rosemary, with Connie no where in sight. The soft 'thump' of a closing book could be heard as Rosemary laid the large tome on her bed stand.

"Ah, you're up. I guess it isn't easy when it pours like this." Rosemary said with a soft chuckle as Vanilla yawned and rose off the bed.

"Where's Connie?" He asked, confirming the girl was indeed no long in the small apartment.

"Unfortunately she had to leave for Happy Garland again. She didn't want to wake you, but she asked me to tell you that her tour with the band should be over in a few weeks." The woman said, casting a glance outside the window the rainy sky with an unsure look.

"Oh, she did?" Vanilla said, a notable hint of disappointment in his voice that caught him by surprise.

"Is something wrong?" Rosemary asked, breaking the youth from his thoughts.

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Just a shame I couldn't see Connie off again." Vanilla said, now feeling his face run hot for some reason that was unknown to him. "I have to go. Take care, Rosemary." He said as he hurried to the door and left, the burning feeling in his cheeks stinging like needles. _What's this weird feeling? Why am I so concerned all of a sudden? I mean, sure, Connie is the first person I've __known since I woke up on the beach... But..._

Vanilla's train of thought came crashing to a stop as he collided with a figure. The combination of the sudden collision and the rain-slicked stone sent both people tumbling to the ground in a heap.

"Ow..." A voice groaned at Vanilla's feet, while he himself suppressed a hiss of pain that ran up his backside as he sat up.

"Charles?" Indeed it was, the very same timid looking man from before in the church. The man was lying face down in a puddle, a bag of bread between his flailing hands. Vanilla quickly stood up and leaned in to check the man for any injuries.

"Vanilla? Is that you?" Charles said as he pushed himself up and quickly secured the quickly soaking paper bag. "I haven't seen you since the other day. I heard about you how beat the Killer Elephants, that was amazing!" The man said, obviously impressed by the courage of his younger friend.

"Ah, well.. it wasn't too easy..." Vanilla mumbled, being modest as always. But Charles shook his head in disagreement.

"Are you kidding? I don't think a lot of guys could have pulled that off by themselves... I know I couldn't..." He said, much to Vanilla's concern. _This guy really does have confidence issues._ Then he recalled the discussion they had from before.

"Hey Charles. I think I might have a recipe you could use." At this the meek looking man beamed, his eyes shining with hope.

"Really? I mean, thanks!" And Vanilla quickly recited the recipe he had recovered at the hideout. Jotting it down despite the downpour, Charles copied each step onto a scrap of paper, "This sounds like something really amazing! Are you sure I can have it?"

"Sure! I promised I would help you, remember?" Vanilla said with a smile.

"Then I won't fail you! You'll see, I will make this recipe the best there is in this town, and hopefully get Sheryl to notice me!" Charles said, a passionate glint in his eyes. "I have to get supplies, see you around!" And with the man trudged off through the storm, leaving Vanilla to chuckle quietly to himself.

"He's a strange guy, but really nice." He remarked, then headed for the Inn. As Vanilla crossed the small bridge that overlooked the canal, he spotted a figure standing beneath a small tree a ways down the small street. Clad in black, a man stood resilient as he watched a building not far from where he stood.

"It's that creep from a few days ago." Vanilla said, a feeling of unease turning in his stomach. The longer he watched the man in black, the more he felt a strange foreboding. Suddenly the man turned and saw the youth staring back. With a calm tug on the collar of his jacket, the man slinked away, turning a corner without a second glance at the boy.

"That was creepy." The youth shivered, a chill coming over him that was not from the rain gradually soaking him. Carefully rounding the corner to the Inn, Vanilla saw that the man was nowhere to be seen.

"What's his deal anyway?" He said aloud, looking up to see the building the man had been lurking around, the sign read: "Vladimir Real Estate"

"Strange, looks like no one is in. Why would he be checking an empty store?" Vanilla wondered, then decided it was best to drop the issue entirely. Whatever it was, it didn't concern him and it was best to not get involved.

"Vanilla!" A voice called, and the youth turned to see none other than Connie rushing down the sidewalk, suitcase in hand. There was a look of worry in her face, as if disaster had struck.

"Connie?" Vanilla said with surprise, _But I thought she was gone already_. "What are you doing here?"

"There's been an accident on the rail line." The girl said, huffing and panting as she caught her breath. "They said bandits attacked or something... Oh man.. What I am gonna do?" The girl fretted, looking worried.

"Come on, let's get inside and out of the rain." Vanilla offered, leading the girl inside the Inn. The 'hum' of a heater could be heard as warm air heated the lounge. Sitting down at the counter, Connie once more resumed her worrying.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do. We have a performance coming up in 3 days!" Connie ran her fingers through her hair as she panicked. Vanilla once again found himself in admiration for the girl's selfless behavior. Ever the helpful one, he spoke up.

"I'll help you. I can take you to Happy Garland." He said. Connie wiped away a stray tear from her eye, looking positively delighted by this offer. "Really?" She said, then embraced Vanilla in a deep hug, "Oh thank you!"

"You're welcome." The boy said with a stutter, feeling his cheeks burning again like before. "So is there another way to Happy Garland we can take?"

"Yes. But we're going to have to cross the _Sabbia Desert_ north-west of here. Though I've been told it's very dangerous." Connie explained rather nervously, starting to feel unsure.

"I swear I'll get you there, no matter what." Vanilla said reassuringly. Connie smiled, her spirits uplifted by the boy's optimism.

"Then we should probably leave now. We'll have to pass through Fort Raven on the way, but we can rest there for the night." Connie explained, heading for the door with Vanilla following closely behind. Thankfully the storm had let up, though dark clouds still hung in the sky, as well as the distant sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

The two boarded the Earl Grey back near the bakery and immediately made their way for the North gate. "We'll go through _Zibala hill_ to reach the fort." Connie explained as the two exited the town and into a wide open meadow. To the right was a narrow path that dipped down into a canal that passed through the town beneath the railroad tracks and off towards the direction of Wagtail, while a steep hill could seen be to the left and disappearing around a narrow curve. The hill rose higher and higher into a large mountain range that spanned out for several miles, and peppered with marshes and small forests.

Years ago, it was said that in the early years of the Kingdom where Nefroburg once stood, a number of traders made the hill their home, often trading with the former castle town before settling at the opposite side of the mountain, the location now known as Fort Raven. Once a former outpost for King Nefro, it now served as a critical means of providing trade between the towns of Nefroburg, Happy Garland, and beyond. Even with the technological boon and the shift towards a government based bureaucracy, the transportation of goods was still crucial for the survival and growth of the numerous towns and cities of this land.

"Have you ever been here before?" Vanilla asked as they passed a flat plain where the path turned sharply to the right and up another incline.

"A long time ago, when I was little." Connie responded with a distant look in her eyes. Though Vanilla could not see as he paid attention to the path, the girl had a look of remembrance on her face. "Back when _he_ was here..." She whispered.

"Hmm? You say something?" Vanilla turned his head slightly to address the girl, who jerked slightly at the question and blushed. "No, nothing... Just thinking out loud." She stammered, looking away to watch a few passing trees. Suddenly a crack of thunder boomed loudly above them, as well as a flash of lightning that lit up the sky before another rumble.

"Uh oh! Looks like the storm is starting up again." Vanilla said, looking around and remembering the Earl did not have a canopy to provide cover. "We better find a place to stay." He added with urgency, feeling a few drops of water hitting his head. Connie leaned forward and pointed straight ahead. "Over there!" As she said this, the sky lit up once more, just in time to reveal a lone, cryptic looking mansion at the top of the hill. Its rusted, iron fence lending to a foreboding look in the dark, overcast sky. As they pulled up beside the house, the rain began to pour harder.

"Quick! Inside!" Vanilla urged as the two quickly dismounted, using an arm to shield Connie's head as they ran for the door of the large home. Inside, the two breathed from the sudden rush, only to then jump with fright as a voice called out, "Hello?" The two turned to see a bearded man in a worn coat sitting on a rotten looking couch. He was tall, and slightly gaunt around the face, his beard adding volume to his cheeks. He wore a wrinkled brown coat with a matching hat and tan slacks.

"Shh. Do be quiet please." The man said, then pointed up to the ceiling and adding, "The sister just got the kids in bed, so I'd advise you to not make any loud noises."

"Who are you?" Connie asked hesitantly, staying close to Vanilla with both hands holding onto his shoulder, unintentionally making the boy turn red in the dimly candlelit room.

"I should ask you the same, you're not with _him_, are you?" The man asked defensively, a hint of fear in his eyes. Suddenly the sound of soft footsteps could be heard and all three turned to see a nun descending a set of steps.

"Is something the matter, Vladimir?" The woman asked, her soft, yet wizened countenance betraying a youthful age of mid-twenty.

"No, Sister Kate. Just some strangers who came in with the storm." The man responded, standing up slightly as if ready to rush to the nun's side.

"Oh my. You two look cold. Please, come inside and rest until the storm blows over." The woman said as she gestured to some chairs near a musky looking table, "I apologize for the mess. I haven't had much time to clean this place since I got here." Kate explained with a kind smile.

"This isn't your house?" Vanilla asked, taking a seat beside Connie as the nun sat opposite of the them, the man called Vladimir edging closer with less urgency in his face.

"No, this house's previous owner apparently left some time ago. I came here after becoming the guardian of some orphaned children." Kate said, gesturing to the sorry look of the home. Cobwebs and leaky cracks could be seen all over the living area and even the kitchen.

"That's what he meant by 'kids' before." Connie said, looking to Vladimir, a look of recognition spreading across her face. "Wait a second, aren't you the man who owns that Realty company in Nefroburg?" She asked with a sense of familiarity. The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes. I am Vladimir of _Vladimir's Real Estate_." The man said, prompting Vanilla to recall the strange man standing outside the building near the Inn. "I apologize for my earlier outburst. You see, I'm currently on the run from a mysterious man in black." Vladimir said. Vanilla felt his heart drop, he and Connie both sharing a look of unease as they remembered the man in black. _So that's why the man was standing outside the Real Estate building..._

"But why is he after you?" Connie asked, nervously knitting her fingers together. Vladimir heaved a heavy sigh, as if still holding some reservation about divulging the entire truth, then cupped his head in his hands. "I was caught seeing _something_ I shouldn't have."

"What?"

"I was scouting out a possible landscaping area near seagull beach, when I saw a _blue trotmobile_ standing near a cliff. Curiosity got the better of me and I foolishly drew closer just in time to witness it firing a missile towards the ocean." At this Connie and Vanilla turned to look at one another. The trotmobile that attacked them at the beach! Was it possible it was also behind the attack on the ship as well?

"Is something wrong?" Vladimir asked, noticing the unnerved looks on the two youths.

"I saw the same thing. It fired at us while we were on the beach and nearly crushed us under some rocks before disappearing." Vanilla explained, balling his fists against his knees. Was it... was it possible that the pilot of that machine was trying to kill him from the start?

"I see, so you too are being targeted by _those_ people."

"Who?" Vanilla asked confusedly.

"The _Bloody Mantis_. Supposedly they aren't real, but rumors have been spreading for the last year or so that a mysterious organization has been on the rise. People are said to vanish off the streets of Happy Garland at night and are never seen again. And I fear that we may be their latest victims." Vladimir explained, his expression paling. Connie nervously leaned close to Vanilla, both hands lightly clutching to his arm. "As I ran from the cliff, I realized I was being followed. When I got back to Nefroburg, I thought I was home free. That was until around evening, when I was closing up for the night that I saw the man idling around outside in the street, like a shark prowling the water. I panicked and went out the back, hoping to sneak away unnoticed. Then I heard the bandit breaking into the town and and I ran. Ever since, I've been hiding out here." The man finished, massaging his temples as he wearily looked back from the two teens to the rain outside the window.

"So that's what the creepy guy at the inn has been up to." Connie said, cupping her mouth as she gasped the words. Vanilla felt his stomach turn, the thought that all these events were starting to tie together so eerily was quite disturbing to put it lightly. Whatever it all meant, somehow he was, or had been dragged into it.

"So he's still in town, huh?" Vladimir asked, heaving another sigh, "I had hoped maybe he might have given up... My poor wife must be worried sick about me." He slumped down down into a chair with a heavy, exhausted sigh, taking his hat off with one hand to run his fingers through his hair with the other. Vanilla couldn't stand it, he wanted to do something, anything.

"I'll get rid of that guy, I swear." He said boldly, not even hesitating on the words. Vladimir looked up with a concerned look, reproachful.

"No, you can't. I got myself into this mess. What kind of grown-up would I be if I allowed a kid to stick his neck out for my sake?" The man frustratedly crumpled his hat in his hands.

"I'll try to trick him into leaving, maybe tell him you're somewhere else. I'm sure I can convince him somehow." Vanilla said, starting to have some doubt, but didn't want to sound like he was letting Vlad down.

"Do...do you really think you can?" The bearded man asked calmly, seeing the determination in the youth's eyes. He sighed and looked up, "Alright... You can try, but please, don't do it just yet." He added.

"huh? Why not?" Vanilla asked, puzzled.

"If you are indeed being shadowed like I am, it would likely draw suspicion if you were to return to Nefroburg and claim you 'know' where I am. And I can't allow you to get yourself into even more trouble than you may already be." Vladimir explained, taking a few breaths to collect himself. "If I have to wait a few more days before I can return home, then so be it." Vanilla wanted to object, but he could see that the man wasn't going to budge.

"Alright... I swear I'll return as soon as possible to resolve this." Vanilla said, smiling as he gave a thumbs up, hoping to lighten the mood. Outside, the rain fell softer and softer, the storm having finally moved on.

"It would seem that the worst is over." Kate said, having remained silent throughout the conversation. Though the rumbling clouds had indeed moved, the sky was already significantly darker now, signifying that nightfall was closing in.

"We'd better go then." Connie said, turning to Vanilla who nodded in agreement.

"Oh are you sure? You're more than welcome to stay." Sister Kate implored, not wishing to see the two teens go out in the night.

"It's alright, we're heading for Fort Raven anyway. But Thanks anyway." Vanilla said as he opened the door for Connie. "I promise I'll try to come back soon and help." He called back to Vladimir, who smiled hopefully.

Outside, the ground was muddy from the pelting rain, and the Earl's seat was practically drenched. Thankfully Connie had a few towels packed away in her suitcase, and one was laid over the seat while Vanilla used squeegee from the glove compartment to clear out the small puddle of water from the floor. Once it looked clean enough, the two settled in and were once more on their way. A steep hill that stretched for about half a mile lay directly ahead, where the walls of a structure could be seen along with torchlight.

"There it is!" Connie said, pointing as the Earl made its way down the slope. The area here seemed barren compared to earlier, the ground looked dried and devoid of any plant life, save for a number of skeletal looking trees. As they near the walls, which were built from heavy looking logs fashioned tightly together, the sounds of music and other mingling voices could be heard. And the smell of spices and other goods wafted through the damp air.

"WAH!" A cry suddenly sounded, followed by a loud clanging as something metal was smashed heavily. Entering through the open gate, a large crowd of people formed a semicircle around two trotmobiles that were engaged in combat. Well, one was, the other looked like it was already broken to pieces. The larger one, a red four-legged trot that resembled Ex-Boss' , only with a trident like right arm and a grill shaped like bull horns. The other was a much smaller model with a light green paint job and a shield for its left arm. With a powerful jab of the trident, the green trot and its pilot were sent flying back, nearly crashing into Vanilla and Connie as it smashed into the walls of the fort.

"Ah, come on! I thought you'd be better than that! Seriously, are all of you guys here losers?" The red pilot, a beefy looking dolt boasted. He looked like a shaved gorilla, and his mannerisms almost added to the likelihood of him being such. "Hey you!" He pointed to Vanilla, a menacing grin on his face. "You here to fight?"

"What? No!" Vanilla was quick to say, completely baffled by what was going on. But the man snickered, crossing his large arms over his broad torso.

"What, chicken?" And the sound of clucking could be heard as the man flapped his arms. Vanilla had to resist slapping his forehead in exasperation, this guy was a complete idiot.

"Ah who cares. I want a fight, and I'm getting one!" And before Vanilla could even react, the man charged at him with surprising speed, a propulsion blasting white hot flames as the massive trot closed the gap between the two.

"Watch out!" Connie gasped, and covered her head as the man fired a spiked ball at the Earl. Vanilla was too slow in dodging it and cringed as the Earl's right arm was dented and torn up by the passing attack, which exposed a heap of gears and wires, the blade piece falling off. Dashing to the side, Vanilla's thoughts were a mess of hurried ideas as he tried to come up with a strategy.

"Where do you think you're going?" The brute mockingly asked, quick to follow after the youth. Vanilla could feel his heart race, this guy was brutal, nothing like the opponents he had faced before. Either this guy was that good, or just lucky to have such firepower at his grasp. Whatever the real answer was, Vanilla didn't have time to find out as the trident was thrust at him. Throwing up the stage arm like a shield, the scrapping of metal could be heard as the sharpened tip slashed across the smooth metal and created sparks.

"Good, looks like you actually have some fightin' spirit in ya after all!" The man said, though it was hard to tell if it was a compliment or a snide comment. The red bull like trot then charged forward, skewering the Earl on it's horn and nearly piecing out the other side. Vanilla forgot all holding the steering wheel and instead held onto to Connie as the large machine throttled the Earl like it was rag-doll, shaking it violently to and fro as the man laughed derisively.

"Pitiful! Come on, fight back, I didn't bang up your arms that badly." But Vanilla ignored the man, all he cared about was protecting Connie as the Earl Grey continued to shake. Once it became clear to the man that Vanilla wasn't going to fight back, he stopped bucking around.

"Geez, you're no fun! And here I was thinking you actually might be a challenge." And with that the red trotmobile shook the Earl off it's horn with a jerking motion, dropping the battered machine to the ground like a mangled rabbit after being chewed on by a wolf. "I'm outta here, this place is full of weaklings." The man said, then headed for the opposite gate, disappearing beyond it.

"Are you ok?" Vanilla asked Connie as he pulled away from her. She nodded meekly, still looking frightened from the ordeal. Both looked around, and were shocked to see the state of the Earl. If it looked like junk before back on the beach, it was now officially a mess. The right arm hung loosely as the frame piece was nearly disconnected from the main body, while the torso itself leaked oil from the gaping holes the horns had perforated it with.

"It's a wreck..." Connie said, nervously chewing on her lip as she looked at Vanilla's totaled trotmobile.

"Hey, you guys alright?" A dull, meek sounding voice called. As Vanilla helped Connie out the damaged Earl, he saw a lanky looking man around his age walking up to him. He wore a pair of helmet goggles and a black leather coat. Judging by the bruises on his face, he was the very pilot of the trotmobile the man had beaten before Vanilla.

"Yea. Who are you?" Vanilla asked.

"Oh I'm Jimmy. Though most people call me wuss... or wussy... or Jimmy the big fat wuss." The guy said, his droning, shrill voice grating on Vanilla's ears. _Gee, I wonder why? So this is that "Jimmy" that Dino was going on about_. "I'm supposed to be a gladiator, believe it or not. But even after I got a _D-rank_ license through years of hard work, I just couldn't handle the pressure... so I ran away. Unfortunately when I got here, that guy, Dudley, was here picking fights with anyone in a trotmobile. I tried to lay low, but he found me out and challenged me to a fight. And well, you saw what happened."

.

"Um... yea. Well are you ok?" Vanilla asked, not sure whether to feel pity for the dopey man or slap him silly.

"Yea I'm fine. Don't worry, I'm used to being beat up and picked on." Jimmy said, scratching the back of his head as he forced an awkward laugh, something that bothered Vanilla to no end. He couldn't explain why, but something about the dorky guy just annoyed him. "Well, I'll see you around, now I gotta see if I can get my trotmobile repaired... again." With that, Jimmy walked off, leaving Vanilla and Connie to stare at the busted form of the Earl.

"Excuse me, sir?" A man called out, and the two turned to see a portly looking man approaching. He wore a cloth around his head, only showing his round face and prickly beard, while a brown overcoat covered his white shirt and gray slacks. "I couldn't help but see the fight you were in, and I have to say you fought quite well." He said, his praising tone very vigorous.

"Yea... but I lost." Vanilla said flatly, casting a look to the Earl.

"Ah, but even the best of us must fail if we are to ever grow stronger." The man said enthusiastically, "The name's Delsen, president of the Deloche Emporium." The man introduced himself, holding out a hand to Vanilla, who hesitantly shook it. "I only started a few months ago, but have been hitting a snag recently. You see, I conduct trade between Fort Raven here and _Alcazar de Condor_, the old structure on the outskirts of Happy Garland. A group of bandits, called the _Desert Hornets_ have been causing a stir lately. Normally they only attacked every few months, stealing a few supplies and leaving the traders alone, but recently they've been getting more violent and have even torn entire caravans to shreds." Delsen explained, his expression becoming more serious, "So you see this next venture needs to be successful. So do you think you consider helping me out?"

"I would, but my trotmobile is a wreck..." Vanilla said. _Not to mention the fact that Connie still has two days now to make it to Happy Garland, can't exactly afford to get sidetracked_.

"Not a worry. I can easily pay for the repairs, not to mention have some modifications made for desert travel. You're on way to Happy Garland anyway, yes? May as well earn some money along the way." Delsen said, putting on a more suave businessman kind of approach. Vanilla felt hesitant, looking to Connie for some kind of guidance.

"It's ok. Besides, we have to get your trotmobile fixed somehow." The brunette said cheerfully. At this the entrepreneur beamed excitedly.

"Then it's settled, I swear you will be paid handsomely for your services. As an extra piece of encouragement, how about I give you a bonus right now so you can get some supplies from the bazaar?" The man said, fishing out a considerable amount of money from his pocket as he gestured to the enclosed area alongside the left wall of the fort. Vanilla eyed the cash for a moment, finally caving as he realized there was little choice in the matter.

"Fantastic. I'll have the mechanics get to work immediately. They should have it ready by tomorrow morning, which is when we'll be heading out. So I'd advise you to rest up, the journey through the desert will be long so you should also look into getting a change of clothes." And with that, Delsen strolled away, a slight bounce in his step.

"Sometimes I feel like an errand boy." Vanilla quipped as he looked that money and thought over the recent events that had transpired.

"It's because you're a nice person. There's just something about you that makes people want to trust you." Connie said, giving an encouraging smile, "And that's one of the reasons I like you." She added, cutely swaying from side to side. Vanilla chuckled and nervously scratched his head.

The bazaar occupied at least one quarter of fort raven, serving as both a place for trade and other services. Along the fence that closed it in was a small series of stables for horses, most of which were either sleeping or hitched up by their owners. Stalls dotted the area, featuring everything from meats and spices, rare antiques, clothes and curios. Mats of eloquent design lay on the ground, where exotic women performed belly dances and men charmed snakes or displayed bold feats of courage with daggers. It was unlike anything Vanilla had ever seen, the smells and sounds of music all blending into something truly different from the more modern life in a place like Nefroburg.

"Oh, Vanilla. Look at this!" Connie called, pulling the youth from his idling thoughts and towards a merchant selling clothes. Hanging from both sides of the stand were two outfits, one for men, and another for women. The man's outfit consisted of a bluish top with long sleeves and white pants, both made of a light material designed for humid climates. The woman's was an eloquently crafted white blouse with a flowing red dress and a small yellow shawl. There were also shoes that oddly curled at the tips and turbans made from a heavy wrap.

"These would be perfect for crossing the desert." Connie said, taking hold of one of the outfits and examining it closely. Vanilla agreed and happily purchased the two items, along with a pair of swimming trunks that were being sold at half price.

"Thank you, sir. If you're in need of a place to change, just use the booths near the rest area." The seller, a woman in a white gown, said as she gestured to a line of cots running along the wall by the fort's exit gate. Two booths could be seen, simple three paneled boxes with green curtains. Taking their new clothes underarm, Vanilla and Connie each entered one of the booths. Vanilla inwardly was glad to have a change of clothes, having been wearing the same outfit for who knows how long. Thankfully the new outfit was just his size, though a little baggy around the pants, but that was compensated by the swimming trunks which he wore like briefs.

_It's very light, and comfortable_. He thought to himself as he left the booth, his old clothes bundled together in a ball. He then heard the rustle of the other booth curtain and turned to see Connie.

"How do I look?" She asked, a bit of uncertainty in her voice. Vanilla was speechless, absolutely captivated by the alluring way the garb fitted on the girl's petite form. It was almost too hard to describe with words.

"Very pretty..." He stammered, pretending to clear his throat when he realized his slip up. Connie giggled, "Thanks, Vanilla. You look pretty dashing yourself in that get up." She added, making the boy feel red in the face for the third time that day.

"Um.. I'm gonna go for a walk." Vanilla nervously said, trying to change the subject.

"Ok. I think I'm gonna turn in now, it's been a long day." Connie said, yawning as she sat down on a cot and then lied down. "Good night." She said sweetly, another yawning interrupting her speech as she drifted off.

"Sweet dreams, Connie..." Vanilla whispered as he quietly stepped away from the rest area to explore the bazaar. Things had significantly quieted down as the traders closed shop for the night and many of the performers had retired for the night. Yet a raging bonfire burned in the center of the area, where various people sat in a circle, trading stories of life. As Vanilla walked through the dusty ground, he tripped over a small wooden tripod, an easel belonging to a startled painter.

"Ah!" The youth cried out as he tumbled to the ground and rolled onto his back, just in time see a canvas falling towards him. Holding out his hands he caught the rectangular object, much to the relief of the artists, a young man wearing a beret and greenish blue smock.

"Oh, thank the stars. Are you alright, sir?" The man asked, taking the canvas in one hand and helping Vanilla with the other.

"Yea.. I'm fine." Vanilla groaned, rubbing his side from the sudden soreness inflicted by the tumble. "Sorry about that."

"It's ok. Thankfully I'm not quite done yet, so it's not like anything serious would have been damaged." The artist said as he set the canvas back on the easel. "I'm Pablo, by the way." He added, holding out a hand.

"Vanilla." The youth said kindly as they shook. "So you're an artist? That must be exciting."

"It is... it's been my life's dream to be a famous painter." Pablo started with great enthusiasm, opening a pouch and showing off two portraits, one of his face and another depicting the square from Nefroburg. Vanilla was stunned, surprised by the masterful detail and almost lifelike quality. "However... I haven't been doing too well lately..." He added, his voice suddenly dour.

"Why's that?" Vanilla asked, finding it hard to believe this guy wasn't already a popular sensation.

"Well, I've yet to find anyone who's really into my works. Most people these days are either obsessed with trotmobiles or fossils. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in for the glory, I just want to know if my works can touch people's hearts the same way music or a book does." Pablo said, a hopeful glint in his eye. He then cleared his throat, a rather rough cough hitting him.

"Are you ok?"

"Ah, yes. It's nothing, I think I caught a bit of a cold from walking through that storm earlier on my way here." The artist said, putting on a nonchalant smile. He then used a pencil and began drawing on the canvas. Vanilla stood beside Pablo for a better look, and was amazed to see a sketch of the bazaar, it was like a frozen frame of the bustling market.

"It looks really good, so far." Vanilla said, beyond impressed.

"Thanks, it's good to hear a compliment or two, however rare." Pablo nodded, switching to a brush to add a shade of brown to the 'ground'. His hand strokes were precise and without flaw, making a believable texture of soil from the paint.

"I should have this one finished within a day. Then I'll probably be making my way to Happy Garland." Pablo said, keeping his focus on the canvas as he spoke.

"By yourself?" Vanilla asked.

"Well, I'll probably tag along with a caravan or maybe some travelers." Pablo said reassuringly. "If not, I know I can find some way. I always have."

"You travel a lot?"

"Mostly, yea. I grew up on a small farm by the Shrike River, near Martlett Falls. I set out on my own a few years ago, you see. Ever since, I've been traveling the land, drawing what I see and hear." Pablo said, a look of remembrance on his face.

"I bet your family must miss you." Vanilla said, inwardly wishing he could remember more about his own family. Did he have any brothers? Sisters?

"You're probably right... though I just don't think I can face them yet, not after having accomplished nothing of value." Pablo stated.

"That's not true. I'm sure they'd be happy to know you've been following your dream." Vanilla exclaimed, which surprised the painter for a moment.

"Hmm, perhaps you're right. My mother was always one to worry." The young artist said, "Then I'll be sure to see her once I've made it to Happy Garland." He said happily, now switching to a dark blue for the skyline. "Well I enjoyed this little conversation of ours. I do feel it's always nice to have a chat with a stranger from time to time, really opens up your perspective of the world each time." Pablo said as he set down the brush and used the pencil to adjust a few lines.

"You too. Take care, Pablo." The youth said, turning to head back for the rest area, feeling sleepiness finally washing over him.

"So long, Vanilla. I hope to see you again, some day." The artist grinned, holding a brush much like one offering their cheers with a drink. Back at the cots, Vanilla finally settled down beside Connie, who slept peacefully. As Vanilla fell into a deep slumber, he smiled as the memories of the day flashed before his eyes.

"Hey Vanilla! Wake up!" A voice called, and Vanilla opened his eyes to see Connie looking over him. Sitting up, the blonde yawned and shifted his feet to the ground. The sky was a light shade of blue, the sun already making its ascent into the sky above.

"It's almost time to meet with Mr. Delsen." The girl explained, shifting through her suitcase and placing her and Vanilla's old clothes inside. They then headed for the gate, where a line of six strange trotmobiles stood. The one in front looked like an armless trot with a 'crane' like neck, while the four behind it looked like metal palettes with legs heavy tarps tied over top of them, the one was at the rear was similar to the first but loaded with crates and had the seats facing backwards. Delsen was speaking with a man dressed in a heavy cloak near a camel as the two approached.

"Ah, just in time. I was just speaking with my assistant here, he's an expert on navigating the desert. The plan is like this: it'll take us about half a day to head north, there we'll set up camp at an oasis and resume the following morning." Delsen explained, giving a nod to his friend as he lead Vanilla and Connie away from the caravan. "And as promised; here's your trotmobile, all fixed up."

"Wow..." Vanilla was speechless as he looked upon the Earl as it exited from the garage station. Any signs of damage were completely gone, the torso having been replaced with a newer model, one that was significantly larger than the original. The legs had also been swapped, now a large mechanical abdomen with four spidery legs. The blade arm was repaired, featuring a longer, slide mounting. As an added touch, a retractable sunroof had been adorned over the drivers seat.

"It's like a brand new machine." Vanilla was in awe, Connie equally as impressed by the Earl's dramatic make over.

"We thought it was a good idea to give your ol' ride a few _upgrades_, the desert is a harsh place, and you're gonna need all the right equipment. So, are you ready?" Delsen asked, lightly tugging on the fringes of his coat.

"Sure thing, sir." Vanilla said.

"Excellent, get settled in and we'll be on our way." And with that Vanilla and Connie boarded the new and improved Earl, marveling at it's sleek new cockpit and plush seating. "This is amazing! I never thought he'd go to this much trouble." Vanilla quipped, buckling himself into the driver's seat as he started up the trotmobile. Connie nodded in agreement, playfully bouncing on the new seat which was far softer than the old one.

"Alright, let's move out!" Delsen could be heard up ahead. The gate was then raised by two people pulling ropes, and the caravan lined itself up, with the Earl behind the rear cargo trot. One by one the caravan trots exited through the gate and into a narrow passage surrounded on both sides by jagged rocks. Walking ahead to Delsen's trot, the businessman waved over to the two teens.

"Here we are, the Sabbia Desert!" He gestured with both arms. Vanilla whistled, mesmerized by the vastness that spread out before his eyes. Rolling dunes of sand stretched out as far as he could see, and howling winds constantly blew thick shrouds of sand that spiraled about like the dancers of the bazaar. But the thing that surprised Vanilla the most was the heat, though not suffocating, it was considerably warmer than anything the youth had ever experienced to the best of his memory.

"Just stay close and keep an eye out for the bandits. They like to attack when the sand storms get really fierce, makes it easier for them to hide and sneak up on the cargo bots." Delsen explained, then motioned ahead for the caravan to begin moving. The new roof proved to be quite useful, keeping most of the blowing sand from getting into the cockpit.

"It seems so, empty." Vanilla thought, looking around at the desert.

"It's definitely not like any place I've been to." Connie said. Suddenly there was a cry of surprise from the caravan, which came to a halt.

"It's... the Desert Hornets are coming!" Vanilla looked around, but could barely see anything. Then, in the distance from his right, he saw the three shadows in the whirling sands. Vanilla just barely raised the stage arm in time as the orange light of gunfire was seen, the shots blasting the sand and whizzing past him and the caravan. Then the shadows charged forward, emerging like wolves from the bush. They were much like the Killer Elephant's trotmobiles, chicken legged, but with slanted 'wing' shields and the canons were mounted on the front.

"Watch out!" Connie said as the leding bandit, a red machine with two riders, a man and woman lead the charge. It stood a few yards short and opened fire, the blast echoing in the wind. Vanilla swung with stage arm, connecting right on with the shot and sending the shell careening into the sands where it smoked pitifully. Two others, both of a leafy green paint job flanked him, encircling the Earl as they paced around.

"Time to see what this baby can do." Vanilla said, dashing back just as one of the bandits was closing in from behind. The Earl slammed into it full force, sending the lighter trot tumbling down a hill of sand, the rider jumping with a terrified yelp. His companion swooped by for him to hop in before firing off a barrage of shots at Vanilla. The spider legs worked incredibly well for dodging, Vanilla easily gliding to the side and avoiding the shot. Sliding forward and swinging the blade arm, the Earl cut through the barrel, leaving the two bandits stunned and stupefied.

"Yo, kid!" A voice called, and Vanilla turned to see the red bandit pacing from side to side as it fired at the caravan. One of the tarps tore and the shredded remains blew away in the wind, exposing the boxes of goods on the mobile platform. Folding the stage arm, Vanilla glided over the sand, carefully making his way towards the helpless traders.

"Leave them alone!" He called, using the full force of the stage arm's fist. The blow connected with the red bandit's trot, violently rocking it as a massive dent appeared. The woman turned and narrowed her eyes at Vanilla, the rest of her face obscured by a shawl. Tapping the driver on the shoulder, the woman said something before making a gesture towards the other bandit trot. Vanilla watched tensely as the red hornet then slowly backed away, before fully turning and charging off, the remaining green one following behind. As soon as they vanished beyond the veil of sand, Vanilla turned back to Delsen and his group.

"Is everyone all right?"

"Looks that way. That was mighty impressive work you did. I was right picking you for this venture." The portly businessman said heartily. Glad to hear that, Vanilla resumed walking beside the caravan, carefully scanning the sandy dunes for signs of another attack. About an hour later, the sun was now bearing down heavily overhead, things seemed fairly quiet. The winds had died down, which was good in that the sand no longer was cutting drastically on visibility, but it also meant the heat could now be felt more than ever.

"I hope we can stop soon, I'm starting to get thirsty." Connie said, her voice sounding a little dry. Just then, as the caravan cleared another tall hill, an almost otherworldly sight came into view.

"Aha, there it is; the Kharija Oasis, we've made it!" Delsen said with glee, pointing to what looked almost like a small tropical island in the middle of the several low dunes. Tall palm trees reached into the sky, surrounded by lush green vegetation. It almost seemed too good to be true, but there it was, a slice of paradise amidst the harsh and unforgiving world of sand.

"We'll make camp here and set out in the morning." Delsen spoke up as he addressed Vanilla and the other members of the caravan. Once the cargo had been checked and accounted for, everyone disembarked from their machines and entered the oasis.

"Whoa..." Vanilla and Connie both exclaimed with wide-eyed astonishment. A beautiful, glistening spring of clear water stretched out before them. It curved around a small islet that jutted out from the surrounding land, while the ground curved around and towards a few small huts that overlooked a small dock. A few settlers could be seen, mingling with travelers who had also stopped at the oasis.

"It's beautiful." Connie said, walking over to the edge and looking down, seeing her reflection in the water's surface. She sat down and gently cupped a handful of water to splash over her face and drink to quench her parched throat.

"Indeed it is, miss. This here oasis has been a popular haven for people to come to on their way through the desert. Some call it the "Gem of Sabbia" due to its presence as a pivotal source of water and fish. It's even a great place for swimming, as the desert sun and the natural spring the water rises from keep it at a pleasant temperature." Delsen said knowingly, leaning down and scooping some water into his hand for a drink.

"That sounds lovely." The girl said, then turned to Vanilla. "Wanna take a dip?" She asked the boy as he leaned over and peered into the water. The forward nature of the question startled the boy that he nearly fell over into the spring.

"Huh? Ah, I mean... uh sure!" He stammered, unable to believe his ears.

"Ok, I'll just go behind that tree there to change." Connie pointed to a large palm tree, just wide enough for a person to stand behind and out of sight. "Just no peeking, alright?" She said cutely, sticking out her tongue as she went behind the large trunk, carrying her suitcase. Vanilla shook his head as he felt his cheeks burn a little, then found a similar tree to stand behind. Removing and folding the garb, he laid his clothes and shoes down on the ground in the shade, along with his pendent.

"Hey, you ready?" He heard Connie call. Stepping out, Vanilla felt his jaw almost drop. Standing by the water was Connie, in a pink bikini. While very practical, Connie's own natural looks simply accentuated the bathing suit in ways left the boy's heart pounding faster and faster.

"Yea..." Vanilla said, simply stunned by the girl's appearance. _She's beautiful!_ He thought as he walked up to her. Connie smiled as she always did, that soft grin that could melt the woes of a thousand broken souls. "Let's go then!" She chirped, then giggled as she dived into the water, splashing Vanilla with a cool blast of water.

"Come on, the water's fine!" She urged, waving with one hand while kicking her feet to stay afloat. Vanilla had to hand to her, she knew how to have fun. With a grin, the youth took a stance.

"Ok, here I go!" He said, then dashed forward and leaped into the air, curling into a ball as he landed in the water heavily. Connie's infectious laughter could be heard under the water as water splashed her. Breaking the surface with a gasp, Vanilla beamed widely as the girl swam closer to him.

"I'd give it a 9." She said teasingly. The boy nearly sank to the bottom as he face faulted.

"A 9! Come on, that was a 10 and you know it!" Vanilla pretended to be upset, splashing the girl playfully.

"Hey!" She faked pouted, doing a backstroke while kicking more forcefully to splash Vanilla's face. Swimming after in the girl in a mock rage, Connie laughing and giggling as she splashed and pretended to 'stay away' from the pursuing boy. Time soon flew by as the pair splashed around, dived, and generally drifted about on the water aimlessly. Before they realized it, the sun had sank into the distance, replacing the blue sky with a shade of purple.

"That was fun!" Connie exclaimed with a gushing laugh as they two climbed out and went back to the trees, Vanilla smiling brightly in agreement. After cleaning and redressing, the two sat around the campfire Delsen and his crew set up for dinner. As they ate, Delsen told stories of his earlier years apprenticing under another trader. Of course Vanilla and Connie had to suppress laughter as the man boasted about selling various and absurd objects before he could finally make it on his own.

"Well it's getting late. Best to turn in early." Delsen said as the moon rose high in the sky. Uncurling several straw mats, everyone turned in.

Except Vanilla, who suddenly found himself in a state of unrest. No matter how hard he tried to left himself be taken by slumber, his mind felt murky, making it difficult to sleep. With nasally sigh he rose from the mat and stood up. He then took a small walk, stopping by the edge of the spring and sitting down. Staring up into the sky, Vanilla found himself transfixed by the twinkling stars, the cloudy feeling in his head diminishing a little.

_A lot has happened lately..._ He thought, trying to focus his circling thoughts. In a flash, memories of his encounters with the Killer Elephants, meeting Dr. Nutmeg, saving the town, reuniting with Connie, and traveling into the desert rushed by. In little over a week, he had gone from waking up on the shores of Seagull beach to becoming a hero, saving the town from misguided ruffians who only sought to travel to the moon, to becoming a hired hand in protecting a caravan.

"And it's all because of _her_..." Vanilla murmured as a vision of Connie appeared, her radiant smile warming his heart. Placing a hand to his chest, he could feel it beating faster and harder, as though it would burst. For a moment Vanilla listened to his pacing heart, a look of realization slowly dawning on his face.

_So is that what I'm feeling? Have I really fallen for her?_ He thought wordlessly...

"Can't sleep either, huh?" A voice said, and Vanilla turned to see Connie approaching. She sat down beside him, heaving a heavy sigh.

"The group is probably mad at me. I ran out without a second thought after I heard the news about Nefroburg. We have a concert coming up, and yet I took off without warning." She said, regret in her voice. "But if we can reach Happy Garland tomorrow, I'm sure it'll work out."

"I bet so, too." Vanilla said, grinning reassuringly. Connie smiled back, happy for the encouragement.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Hmm, what?" Vanilla asked, a little surprised by the sudden change in subject.

"Well, it's about that pendent you have." She said, pointing to the necklace around Vanilla's neck. Grasping it, Vanilla briefly remembered his meeting with Dr. Nutmeg and how a boy named "Mallow" may have been the original owner.

"This belonged to Mallow, didn't it?" He asked, startling the girl. It seemed as though the name struck a bad chord with her.

"How do you know that name?" She asked.

"When I visited Dr. Nutmeg, we talked about the pendent and I was able to recover a memory. In it, there was a boy, and Nutmeg said he might be someone you knew called Mallow." Vanilla explained.

"I see..." Connie said, her voice quieter, unsettled almost.

"Who was he?" Vanilla asked, desperate to find out something, anything about his past.

"He's the son of a well known doctor from Happy Garland. You _could_ say he was a friend of ours." Connie began, obviously struggling to speak about the boy in question. Vanilla could see that there was some kind of bad history. "He did make fun of Dandelion and Chicory though..."

_I've heard those names before..._

"Who were they, Dandelion and Chicory?" Vanilla asked. Connie seemed to tense up, a sullen expression crossing her face. He recalled how Connie seemed to quickly change the subject back at the carpet mill when Marjoram had said the name _Dandelion_.

"They were friends, way back. They were brothers who used to play with the Garland Globetrotters, with Dandelion as the leader. But about 3 years ago he left to open an instrument workshop." Connie explained. Suddenly the picture from the shack flashed through Vanilla's head, was that them?

"And Chicory?"

"He's... a friend." The girl said, almost in a whisper. For a moment she closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, her expression still gloom. Obviously there was some history with these people, history that deeply affected Connie in ways Vanilla couldn't imagine. As much as he wanted find out about Mallow and his past, he couldn't bring himself to push the girl any further, at least not now.

"I'm sorry..." He said, looking down into the water. Connie forced a wry smile, shaking her head.

"No... I'm the one who should apologize. I thought maybe I could help you with your memory." She started, frowning. She was now rubbing her hands, completely unsettled. But Vanilla stopped her, taking her into a hug.

"It's ok. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel like it. My memory can wait." He said, feeling the girl sigh heavily once again before releasing her.

"Thanks. I promise, I want to help you, Vanilla. I want you to get all your memories back, no matter what." Connie leaned back, a look of determination on her face. Vanilla smiled, glad to see her returning to her cheerier self.

"Anyway. I also wanted to ask you about the harmonica you have."

"What about it?" Vanilla asked, retrieving it from his pocket. Looking it over, he could the fine etching of his name on one side. It looked fairly old, but still functional.

"Well, I thought maybe we could play together, if that's alright with you." Vanilla suddenly tensed, making a funny "I don't know how to play though." face.

"It's ok, I can show you a copy of the lyrics." Connie said, getting up and running back to her suitcase. After a moment she returned, a sheet of paper in hand. On it were the musical notes for the song she had performed the night of the attack. Vanilla took the sheet nervously, still unsure about the idea in general.

"Don't worry, I'll hum it first, that way you can try to get an idea of the rhythm." She explained, then cleared her throat. After a pause she began to hum slowly to that same tune she sang before. Vanilla hesitated, then placed his lips on the harmonic and began playing. At first he could barely keep a beat, often stopping and starting again when he missed a note or didn't get the pitch right, all the while Connie smiled sweetly as she continued humming.

"Keep at it, you're getting there." She said encouragingly. And Vanilla had to admit, he did feel it becoming easier. Closing his eyes, he could suddenly see the music each note playing out, as though the tune were a visible stream. Stopping, Vanilla grinned, the memory of playing his treasured harmonica, a gift from long ago. _He played it often, every day almost. Day, night, he would jam to any little tune he could imagine._

"Vanilla? You ok?" Connie asked when she noticed the boy had ceased playing. Turning to nod, Vanilla opened his eyes, a wide smile on his voice.

"I think I just figured it out." He said, a knowing look on his face. "Go ahead, sing." He added as he once more placed the harmonica to his lips. Connie smiled, then began to sway gently from side to side as she opened her mouth.

_ When you're sad and blue _

Vanilla chimed in with the harmonica, pulling off an impressive tempo that added a depth to the last two words in Connie's verse.

_ Look into the blue sky. And your blueness might be soaked into the sky _

Vanilla continued a soft rhythm as Connie sang the verse.

_ When you feel like nobody. Just look at the stars _

Two beats sounded, emphasizing the end of the verse.

_ And remember they are twinkling for you! _

Connie turned, smiling to Vanilla as he perfectly nailed another note.

_ In your eyes I see a pond of troubles; You've been hiding from us all the time _

Vanilla caught each note on the words "Pond of troubles" and "hiding from us all the time." with near expert precision. Really picking up the pace.

_ But you can't keep all in forever. Can't you see that we all right here for you? _

Their harmony was near perfect, as if they had been playing for ages.

_ Now let me tell you one thing, we are all right here for you and only you _

Nothing else seemed to matter, they absorbed entirely in the beat of the music.

_ We will always sing for you. So why not sing along with us? _

_ Let go of all your troubles; Be free of your mind and let it go! _

_ It's funny how things turn around. Just by singing out loud! _

Silence followed, neither one able to speak as the success rolled over them.

"That was perfect! You were amazing!" Connie finally said, gushing as she loaded praise after praise unto Vanilla. "How did you get so good?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know... I just suddenly remembered how to play..." Vanilla said, honestly amazed that he could be this good with the small instrument. For a moment the two basked in the glow of the moon, enjoying the peace and serenity of their performance.

"That was fun. But it's late now... Good night." Connie said, standing up and returning to her mat. Vanilla smiled, happy to have shared that moment with Connie. Maybe he didn't much about this _Mallow_ kid, but he did discover one thing; he could kick butt with the harmonica. Finally, he returned to the campsite, where Delsen and the caravan riders slept. Connie was fast asleep, looking peaceful.

"She looks happy." He thought, then leaned in. "Sweet dreams, Connie." But instead of a sleepy response, the girl groaned.

"Chicory... I'm sorry." Vanilla frowned, a bad dream? Deciding it was best not to fret over it, Vanilla lied down on his mat, finally feeling sleep washing over him. Soon he slipped away into dreamland...

"AHHH!" A voice cried.

"Huh? What?" Vanilla mumbled groggily as he sat bolt upright, his vision blurry from sleepiness. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up just in time to see a strange figure, a bandit. But it was what the man had slung over his shoulders that made Vanilla's blood run cold. Connie, kicking and thrashing, was being hauled off by the tall bandit, dressed in heavy cloth that covered him from head to toe.

"VANILLA! HELP!"

**TO BE CONTINUED**

(In Your Voice; instrumental version plays)

Connie is tied up and being taken away by a bandit, Vanilla desperately trying to follow after.

_The past can be like a beast, a roaring rampage of hatred and bitterness_

Vanilla is escorted by Delsen's assistant to a large hideout, the moon shining high above them.

_The boy finds himself facing the beast head on, an unknown anger being hurled at him_

Vanilla suddenly finds himself surrounded, bandits coming from all sides.

_However, the words of the girl soothe the beast_

Connie is seen singing a song, a look of passion in her face.

"Next time, on Steambot Chronicles! _Impossible!_"

Yep, another cliffhanger. I had already planned on ending it here, not to mention it nearly six in the morning here! XP (I just had to finish this, as I was getting annoyed at myself for pushing it back every time I tried to write it). Anyway, I feel I outdid myself with this chapter, though I am a bit unsure about a few things; like the encounter with Vladimir and the conversation by the spring. I do hope to maybe find someone eventually who could proofread the chapters, though I may hold off on that until I've fully completed the story and then go back to fix and revise any mistakes I may have made.

Please review! It's always appreciated. And stay tuned for chapter 8, I swear I'll try to get it out soon.


	8. Session 8

Steambot Chronicles

As promised, the next chapter. While it probably won't be quite as long as chapter 7, it'll still have a meaty plot. Naming this chapter was quite easy since I figured the song featured in it would fit nicely for a number of ways, namely the complexity of Connie's past and Vanilla becoming a part of her world. I'll mention my need for a chapter 9 name at the end of the chapter. One question I would like to ask if anyone has a deviantart account and might be interested in doing some art inspired by this. Hell, if someone knew flash, I've had some neat ideas for animated shorts, but that's me having pipe dreams, as usual ^_^. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

_Chapter 8_ ~ _Impossible_

"Vanilla!" Connie's cries could be heard as her kidnapper boarded one of the bird legged trotmobiles and took off like a shot. Vanilla, still weary from sleep, fumbled to his feet and tried to give chase, his head feeling murky from drowsiness. But it was futile, and the bandit, along with Connie, shrank into the distance as the youth fell to his kneels in exhaustion. His heart was racing, both from the excitement and fatigue from the sudden chase.

"CONNIE!" Vanilla cried out, a hand vainly reaching out towards the diminishing figure. A wave of emotions overcame the boy, failure, desperation, fear. Frustration got the better of him and he found himself pitifully pummeling the soft sand (which prickled against his knuckles). He lay there, defeated, until he suddenly felt a hand place itself firmly on his shoulder like a perching bird.

"Sir? Are you alright?" A soft but gruff voice said, and Vanilla looked up to see Delsen's assistant, looking concerned. He had removed most of his cloak, revealing a round, cleanly shaven dark-skinned face. Soft brown eyes gave him a rather gentle nature, which seemed to fit with his rather strange and formal way of speaking. "They've probably gone to the hideout of the Desert Hornets." He said as he helped Vanilla up.

"Where is it?" Vanilla said hurriedly, not wishing to waste even a second standing around as he quickly made a bee-line for the Earl. Powering up the trot, he was about to go dash off in the direction of the bandit when the assistant appeared in front of him, riding on a camel.

"Sir, I'd advise you to keep your calm. It will do you no good to go rushing in all riled up. I imagine that they might be after you and that they're expecting you to follow." The man explained with urgency as he tried to qualm the raging blonde. Though the last sentence was far from calming, or reassuring.

"Then I'll give them what they want. If it'll save Connie, I don't care about what happens to me." Vanilla said determinately, his cobalt eyes still seething with urgency and anger. He could not forgive himself for this, he had to save Connie no matter what.

"Then follow me, I know how to reach the stronghold." The cloaked man said, rearing his camel as he strode ahead of Vanilla. With a wave, he took off, the Earl following closely behind.

The desert seemed drastically different at night, the calm, cold blue sky a startling contrast to the vibrant red haze of the day. The light of the moon made the sand glitter like sparkling gemstones, lending to an almost dreamlike feel.

"If only this was a dream.." The youth thought aloud as he and Delsen's assistant made their way west of the oasis. They said nothing for a while, Vanilla largely concerned about reaching the hideout, but as they traveled, he felt a nagging question in the back of his head.

"Why did they take Connie if they wanted me?" He finally broke the silence after some time.

"I can't say for certain, but it may have to do with the increased raids that have occurred over the last few days. According to reports from the victims of the raids, the bandits were asking about a teenager around 17 years of age. I would guess they've set their sights on you and your friend." Delsen's assistant explained, sounding fairly uncertain at his own conjecture. Vanilla shook his head, wondering if Vladimir's fears of the two both being targeted by some organization were true. If so, what exactly were they after? Had he done something in the past? Whatever the case was, all that mattered now was saving Connie.

"There it is." The assistant said, snapping Vanilla from his thoughts as he looked ahead to see a fortress of sorts. An enclosed complex at the foot of a wide mountain that snaked across the desert like a massive stone reptile, a high wall of wood safely sealing off from the rest of the harsh desert. A large building peeked over the horizon of the wall, casting a dark silhouette in the dark. They were about 30 yards short of the fortress when the man motioned for them to stop, making a signal for Vanilla to cut the headlights on the Earl.

"We must enter on foot." He said calmly, this drew an angered thump from the youth, who lifted his fist from the side of his trotmobile.

"What? Why?" Vanilla protested, only for the assistant to hurriedly make a shushing motion. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the wall for patrolling guards, thankfully spotting none. "Sir, I'd advise you to heed my advise and depart from your vehicle. We would seem to have the element of surprise at the moment." He said as he waved for Vanilla to exit the Earl.

"Then we should just charge in there, catch them off guard." Vanilla said, crushing his fist tightly as he moved to join the man. Every moment they wasted was another possible moment of Connie being harmed.

"I understand your urgency, sir. But it could prove dangerous to go rushing in without thinking. They may very well do something harsh to Miss Connie if we were to storm the gate so boldly." He said grimly, a fact that lessened Vanilla's irrational pep. He was probably right. To go breaking in the door might not bode well for Connie's safety. With a defeated sigh, Vanilla followed the man, carefully moving along the numerous rocks on the ground, stopping at each one to check for guards before moving to another.

"Alright. I'll make my way over the wall and check for any guards, once it's safe, I'll open the gate for you." The assistant said as they arrived at the base of the wall, fishing a line of rope with a grappling hook on it from a pouch at his side. Standing back, he wound up the hooked end and threw it up, snagging it between one of the gaps in the wooden gate. Once it was secured, the man quickly scrambled up the rope with surprising skill and speed.

"Connie, hold on a little longer." Vanilla quietly murmured as he waited by the gate. After several grueling, uneventful moments, the wooden barrier shifted and parted slowly. Vanilla froze, cautiously waiting for signs of the man amidst the quiet. Finally Delsen's assistant peeked his head out from behind the now open entrance.

"This way sir, the coast is clear." Vanilla didn't need any further prompting as he quickly crossed the threshold and into the stronghold. A hill of rock stood before them, the large building standing at the top, while two descending ledges with various houses occupied the rest of the hill, a slanting ramp of earth to one side offering access to the various structures. It was quiet, the houses all dark with no signs of visible activity.

"This way, they'll be in that large building at the top." The man said gesturing for Vanilla to follow. Up the ramp they went, quietly as the shadows that blanketed the area, the only sound being the flicker of the torches and the distant howl of the wind. It almost seemed too convenient, too easy. Vanilla slowly started to have the strangest feeling that he was being followed, the hairs on his neck tingling, nagging at him like a prodding finger trying to rouse someone from slumber. There were no guards to be seen, not even by the large building.

"In here..." The man said, suddenly running ahead and opening a door on the side of the building. "Wait!" Vanilla hissed, then ran after, confused about the man's sudden shift in behavior. Inside was a small room, a set of stairs leading up opposite of the door. Numerous boxes and crates could be seen, likely stolen goods from raids. But the man wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Hello?" Vanilla quietly said as he looked around. Suddenly he found himself confronted by two bandits as they popped out from behind a set of crates.

"What the?" Vanilla gasped, about to back away when bumped into someone behind him. But just as he turned to look, a sack was thrown over his head and his arms were seized by vice-like hands. In seconds he could feel rope being slipped around his body, binding his arms and chest tightly. "What's going on?" He tried to say, his voice muffled by the burlap, his vision just as marred by the dense material. Heart pounding, mind racing, the youth found himself thrashing around vainly as a forceful push nudged him forward.

"Move!" A harsh voice said, an awfully familiar one. Nearly blind and unable to make use of his arms, Vanilla was half-dragged, half-shoved up the stairs, almost tripping several times all the while. Finally the escort came to an end, and the youth tried to look around as the atmosphere grew eerily quiet.

"Mistress Nora, our _guest_ has arrived." One of the bandits said as Vanilla was shoved forward a few feet before being halted with a jerking pull of the binding rope.

"You've got some guts, thinking you could come and take us on all on your own." A woman's voice said, her sneering tone like a knife cutting deeply into Vanilla's pride. He then felt a forceful shove, and groaned as he hit the floor hard. A second later the sack was removed from his face, finally allowing him to see clearly once more. They were in a large, musty looking room, more crates and boxes littering the corners, with an open doorway leading to balcony that overlooked the entire fortress.

"So you're the guy _they_ want, huh?" He looked up to see a woman staring down at him with a dismissive look. A white hood covered most of her delicately featured face, oval in shape with sharp, yet alluring grey eyes and pouting lips. A pink vest covered a red overshirt while the tails of a white one could be seen danging from underneath, her baggy maroon pants shuffled quietly as she leaned down to grab the boy's face and look him over.

"I'll admit, you're nothing like what I imagined you to be, especially the hair." She said with an unimpressed tone, as though expecting something else. "I expected _Mallow_ to be very different." She said as she let go of Vanilla and stood back up. A grin spread on her face as Vanilla's eyes widened at the mention of the name.

"That's right, we saw the pendent. There's no use in trying to play ignorant." Nora said snidely, crossing her arms as she looked down the bridge of her nose towards the flopping youth as he wriggled like a fish out of water.

"What are you talking about?" Vanilla grunted, struggling to maneuver into a better position to address the woman. The somewhat playful, mocking grin vanished from the woman's face, replaced by a fiercer one. "I told you, there's no use in acting dumb, we know who you are!" She said accusingly, pointing a finger at Vanilla.

"I'm not Mallow!" Vanilla spat back as he wrested himself (painfully) onto his knees, though he had a nagging uncertainty, a growing sense of doubt as the accusation was made against him.

"Wait! You've got it all wrong, he isn't Mallow!" A voice cried, Connie! Vanilla turned as best as he could to see a door open and Connie rushing out, and Vanilla felt a wave of relief wash over him, happy to finally see that she was unharmed. But then a guard snatched her by the arm forcibly, an angry sneer on his scarred face.

"Silence. I told you to behave yourself!" The man barked, wresting Connie with both hands as he tried to subdue her. Nora frowned disapprovingly, sighing and cupping her forehead.

"You moron, I thought I told you to keep a better eye on the prisoner..." She started to lay into the man when she stopped mid-sentence, now taking a moment to get a clear look at the struggling Connie. "Wait a second, aren't you Coriander, of the Garland Globetrotters?" Nora began again, her voice glimmering with an almost fan-girlish recognition.

"Yes..." Connie answered hesitantly, ceasing her attempts to pull away from the guard to address the woman.

"I didn't realize we had a living celebrity in our midst." Nora exclaimed, Vanilla furrowed his brow as he watched the woman. For a leader, she seemed a little... dense, or at the very least ill-informed.

"So you're saying this guy's not Mallow?" Nora asked, stepping past Vanilla and towards Connie.

"No, I swear he isn't. He's lost his memory, he doesn't know anything about that pendent he has. Please, there's been a terrible mistake!" The girl explained pleadingly, gently pulling her arm from the guard, who cautiously let her do so. Nora turned and glanced to Vanilla, then back to Connie.

"Let them go... we've obviously made a mistake." Nora ordered, trying to look unabashed as best as she could.

"But boss, what about the _deal_?" One of the men asked nervously, only to freeze up with a 'gulp' as his leader looked at him icily.

"I doubt _the_ Coriander would have any use in trying to lie to a bunch of bandits. Besides, this kid doesn't look anything like the description we were given. And personally, I'm tired of all these raids, we still haven't seen any cash from those _men in black_." Nora said disdainful. Vanilla and Connie exchanged looks, _The Bloody Mantis!_ The guards did as ordered, and soon Vanilla was untied, he and Connie now standing before Nora.

"Thank you." Connie said, relieved that no harm came to herself, Vanilla, and even the bandits themselves. Nora practically gushed, giddy as a fan who had been complimented by their favorite idol.

"We're the ones who should apologize. I had no idea that we had kidnapped the leader singer of the Garland Globetrotters." She said with an enthusiasm that betrayed her normally more fiercer countenance.

"Oh, I'm nobody special." Connie said modestly, her selflessness once more showing. Nora had to struggle to suppress a laugh, bemusement on her face.

"Are you kidding me? You're one of the best singers of this century, and that's saying a lot." The young woman lauded the songstress, who blushed from the praise. Turning to Vanilla, Nora gave a polite nod. "And you, not-Mallow, I apologize for the confusion." She bowed deeply for a moment, hanging her head low.

"It's alright... I'm just glad that Connie is ok." Vanilla said cheerfully, deciding that it was best to let go of his anger towards the bandits. They were obviously regretful of their deed, and he knew it would be childish to let something that hadn't gotten out of hand bother him any further. "I'm sure you had your reasons for doing what you did. I can only imagine life is tough out here."

"It is. But it's our home, and we have to make a life that suits our needs. But I can assure you, we won't be harassing any caravans for a while. I think it's time we let those travelers have some peace." Nora said as she turned away to look out the window of the room. "I do take back what I said, you are pretty bold, for a kid." She added, a chuckle shaking her small shoulders.

"Well, I have had some run-ins with bandits before, mostly with the Killer Elephants from the area by Nefroburg." At this, Nora froze, turning slightly to look at Vanilla with a paled expression.

"You don't mean... _Bobby_ and his gang, do you?" She asked meekly, strangely sounding mortified. Vanilla quirked an eyebrow, surprised that the woman knew about the Ex-Boss's name.

"Wait, you know each other?" He asked, only to see Nora glow slightly red in the face and turn away from him.

"N-n-no. I don't know anything about that loudmouth jerk." She said, sounding increasingly flustered. Vanilla and Connie both shared perplexed look as the woman muttered something to herself about 'That no good...' before trailing off inaudibly. Finally, Nora turned, stiffening her expression as she addressed Connie.

"Before you go, do you think you could perform a song for us? It's been a while since we've had any real fun." She asked, completely changing the subject. Connie seemed a little puzzled by the request, but nodded, "Sure, I don't mind."

"Excellent!" Nora said excitedly, "Go and tell the others, we're in for a treat tonight!" She ordered to the guards, who saluted and left the room. Shortly after, Connie and Vanilla, along with Nora, left the room and headed for the exit of the building. Outside, a small crowd could be seen, consisting of women, children, and similarly dressed men like the ones that guarded the structure. They all sat on the path that led back to the ramp in a formal style, eagerly awaiting word from Nora.

"I know some of you have been weary over the last several days, what with our increased raids and clashes with mercenary escorts. But I can assure you that we're through playing headhunter for those creeps in the suits. Tonight, we have a special guest; Coriander of the Garland Globetrotters!" Nora said rollickingly, which raised an awed gasp from the crowd.

"Do you need me to help? I still have the harmonica." Vanilla asked as Connie waved to the people pleasantly, several of which applauded and cheered at her. She turned to the boy and smiled, shaking her head.

"No, I got this. But thanks for the offer." She said, then walked a few feet until she was standing before the crowd, with Vanilla, Nora, and a few of her guards behind her.

Closing her eyes, the brunette took a deep breath as she relaxed. Placing her hands together and swaying, Connie began to hum, slow and steady, a somber tune unlike the one Vanilla had become familiar with.

_ Where do I, fit in the picture of your world? _

_ When you're soaring so high. And I am left alone _

The words poured from her soft lips like a melancholy lullaby, slowly captivating everyone with its melody.

_ Here on the ground; I can't, even see you anymore. _

_ So high up there, like a bird. I wish I could fly to you _

She hummed three beats, drawing out the third, all the while her voice remained steady and slow. Vanilla found himself enthralled by the melody, intrigued by the hauntingly sad lyrics. Even Nora was looking touched, her expression heartfelt as the song continued.

_ But where are my wings? You took them away from me _

_ Never to give them back to me... _

Connie's voice rose on the last word, swelling up for the main chorus.

_ You stole them from my back; you ripped them off... _

_ The scars will be right there! _

Connie seemed to burn with a passion, deeply involved in her lyrics. Vanilla watched as she closed her eyes, blinking away a single tear that rolled down her cheek.

_ And I'll never be able to fly right to you _

_ Only 'cause I can't. And it is you _

_ Who made it... Impossible... _

Connie finished with a beautiful aria, leaving everyone stunned for several moments long after she concluded. It was a such a sad song, Vanilla could tell. The way she had sung it, one would swear it must have had some deeper meaning. However, Nora was the first speak up, tearfully.

"That... that was just beautiful." The bandit leader was almost bawling, again making her seem less intimidating. After taking a moment to wipe her eyes, she took a deep breath and addressed the two once more. "Thanks for that. Far as I'm concerned now, you're both welcomed guests of the Desert Hornets." She then turned her head and whistled. From the crowd emerged a familiar face.

"Yes boss?" Delsen's assistant asked, bowing before Nora. Connie pointed to the man with alarm.

"Wait, you're one of them?" She asked. The man nodded, a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, he's a spy for the Desert Hornets. He tags along with caravans and learns their routes." Nora explained, then saw the frowns on both Connie and Vanilla's faces. "I know it sounds wrong, but it's actually our way of ensuring our raids are coordinated and precise, meaning that there's less chance of anyone getting harmed. We're thieves through and through, but at least we can honestly claim to have honor." She said firmly, no remorse or regret.

"Please, I shall take you back to the oasis." Delsen's assistant addressed the two youths. As they began to depart for the Earl, Nora called out.

"I can swear this to you; We will never shed innocent blood, not for profit or anything." The bandit leader said, slowly turning away to gaze up to the moon, which was starting to wane. Boarding the Earl without another word, Connie and Vanilla calmly followed Delsen's assistant down the ramp and to the gate. As the gate rose, the two briefly glanced back, watching as Nora started back with a firm look, a faint smile on her lips.

"This way, please." The assistant said, setting off back for the oasis with Vanilla and Connie following closely behind. Far from where the three were quietly making their way across the sandy reaches, a lone trotmobile hummed in the night air. Its jade paint job and scythe like arm frames fitted with the Mantis like logo on its breastplate. Its rider, a man dressed in a smart looking black suit, casually reclined in the pilot's seat, staring through a pair of binoculars as he kept track of the trio. After several moments of observation, the man reached for a walkie-talkie from the panel near the steering wheel, flipping the outgoing signal button.

"This is agent 0007, it would appear that the Hornets have let go of the _golden_ boy. Should I intervene?" The man briskly asked into the device, which crackled as he released the button.

"_Negative, agent. We are now shifting focus back to observing the target._" A voice replied, filled with poise. The agent frowned slightly, looking confused.

"Warrant Officer _Comfrey_, are you sure about that? This kid has already proven to be quite a handful." 0007 said.

"_You forget yourself, agent._" The voice said, still calm, but spoken with a tone that made the agent flinch nervously. "_Our leader is considering extending an offer to our young 'friend'._"

"Sir, you don't mean?"

"_I believe so. Until then, we are to merely observe, do not engage the target at all, understood?._" The voice crackled.

"Yes sir, roger that." Agent 0007 said, making a salute as he replaced the walkie-talkie and sat in his seat properly. Activating his trotmobile, the mysterious man in black turned and departed, the sky slowly glowing with the light of the returning sun.

#

"This is where we must be part." Delsen's assistant said as the group arrived at the oasis, the caravan still resting peacefully. "I must be going..." He said, steering the camel back towards the Desert Hornet base.

"You're not coming with us to Happy Garland?" Connie asked.

"No, my time traveling is Mr Delsen is over." The man said, albeit with a hint of remorse. "When the sir awakens, could you give him a message? Tell him I said thank you, and that I will always remember his kindness." He continued, a wry smile on his face. Vanilla nodded, understanding the request.

"Thank you. I wish you good luck in your journey ahead." The man said before making a clicking sound with his tongue, which spurred the camel in a gallop, his image disappearing into the distance. Connie and Vanilla returned to the camp, exhausted from the night's long events. They traded glances, the events from before playing out in their heads.

"I'm sorry." Vanilla started, looking at the ground, "I should have done something..."

"Vanilla." Connie interrupted, placing a finger to the boy's lips. "It's alright. You came to rescue me, and that's all that matters. The important thing is that no one got hurt." She smiled encouragingly.

"Besides, I knew I could count on you." Vanilla was completely unprepared for the little peck on the cheek he received from the girl, who giggled as she saw the boy's face turn a shade of red.

"Thank you, Vanilla." She said, returning to her mat and lying down, leaving the stunned Vanilla speechless. As he lay down on his own mat, Vanilla's thoughts were filled with the 'reward' he had received from Connie.

"I don't think I'll ever wash this cheek again..." He thought, peacefully starting to slip back into a well overdue rest. Suddenly he sat up quickly, his face twisted in deep thought.

"Wait... When did I last wash?"

#

Morning came, and with it, the caravan began to stir, refreshed and feeling renewed. Vanilla groggily rose, having only been able to gain a few brief hours before Delsen's crew became active. Breakfast was passed around, an oatmeal like substance that possessed a rather bland taste, but it was better than nothing, and the water passed around from the canteens did help some. By about noon, everyone was packing their things and returning to the trots, Delsen was looking around with great puzzlement.

"Huh? Has anyone seen my assistant? I haven't seen him at all this morning." The portly businessman said, doing a headcount every now and then to see if he missed by mistake. Vanilla felt hesitant, wondering how to break the news to the man.

"He.." Connie was about to say, having difficulty herself in relying the absent man's message.

"He said he had to go somewhere, on his own. But he wanted you to know that he was thankful, and that he'd always remember your kindness." Vanilla cut in, hopeful it would be enough to convince Delsen.

"Did he now?" The caravan owner asked, mildly befuddled. But the look quickly vanished and he grinned, "Well I'm sure he has his reasons for going. He was always such a thoughtful man, though." Delsen murmured, convinced by his own assumption. Once everyone was set and ready in their trotmobiles, he called for the caravan's attention. "Alright, it's time to head out. The trek from here to Alcazar de Condor will take at least a good 4 hours, but if we can keep things steady we can probably make it in three."

From the oasis, the caravan resumed its journey, now heading in a north-eastern direction. Just as it was yesterday, the heat of the sun was intense in the dry, sandy dunes of Sabbia. From time to time, cacti and bleached bones of dead animals could be seen. Just as the night of the desert was lonely and dreamlike, the day was conversely bleak and almost nightmarish. The trip was rather uneventful, with only a handful of steep dunes that nearly toppled some of the cargo trots.

"We're almost there!" Delsen hollered, pointing towards what looked like a distant wall. As they drew closer, Vanilla see the distinct structure of what appeared to be castle walls. Set between the passage of two opposing mountains, the massive stone wall spanned the gap of nearly 200 feet, the immense structure easily dwarfing the walls of Nefroburg. Crumbling battlements betrayed the ancient nature of the walls, while a more recently added metal gate was affixed in the middle. As the caravan neared, Delsen sent up a flare, the signal calling to the speck like guards barely seen standing at the top of the wall.

"Looks like we made it. Let's head inside and then we'll discuss your reward." Delsen said as the caravan lined up at the gate. After a few moments, the screech of grinding gears was heard as the heavy metal door rose, lifting its way off the ground to allow entry inside. The area inside was enormous, at least half of Nefroburg could probably have fit neatly in the large square arena, which looked as though it had once housed a magnificent castle. Though it could be seen that construction was being done, large steel girders being built into the rocky walls of the mountains, while the walls themselves were slowly being chiseled and refurbished.

"Here at last, Alcazar de Condor!" Delsen said excitedly as the caravan came to a rest at a spot left of the gate. Everyone disembarked and, the crew immediately going to work unloading the cargo while Delsen walked with Vanilla.

"You've done good work, kid. A right fine job!" He declared enthusiastically. "From the look of things we didn't lose even one crate in that attack from yesterday. Just give me a moment to calculate your reward." And before Vanilla could interrupt, the man walked off ahead to speak with his employees, leaving Vanilla and Connie alone to wait.

"So, not much farther to Happy Garland?" Vanilla asked, breaking the silence brought by the sudden waiting period.

"Mhmm. All we have to do is just head through that gate, and it's probably not even a half-hour trip from here to Garland." Connie said.

"That reminds me. Where did you guys come up with the name _Garland Globetrotters_?" Vanilla asked, suddenly curious about the possible connection between the upcoming town and the band.

"Funny you should ask, the name originated from..." The girl was about to say when Delsen appeared, carrying a coin purse that seemed to be bursting at the seams.

"Here we are, after factoring in the minor damages to the cargo trots, the hiring fee and repairs to your machine, I've calculated your total to 500 UR. Spend it well, my friend." Delsen said, handing Vanilla the rather weighty bag of coins who seemed quite surprised at the amount. Vanilla wanted to object, feeling overpaid, but Delsen was once again off conversing with his crew. With a shrug, Vanilla pocketed the money and climbed back into the Earl along with Connie.

"Happy Garland, here we come!" The girl said excitedly, pointing to the opposite gateway. The Earl plodded along the dusty ground, crossing the great expanse of the fortress with echoing footfalls. Beyond the gate lay a narrow ravine, the end of which was met with a tall hill full of switchbacks. Years of commuting had gradually worn a visible trail into this path, while rickety looking slabs of wood were planted near the edge of each slant to ensure safety. A few police trotmobiles could be seen patrolling the paths, with more at the summit, which was occupied by thin looking trees.

"What's with all the guards?" Vanilla asked, seeing a few pairs of police dashing around a narrow pass and out of sight, the whine of sirens following shortly after.

"There's been considerable bandit activity in the last year or so, though no one can explain why. But what is known is that law enforcement has been spread pretty thin lately. That's probably why the Killer Elephants were able to take over Nefroburg so easily." Connie explained, then perked up as she spotted their destination.

"Over there!" Her finger pointing to a another walled structure, this one at least twice the size of Nefroburg. From the field they emerged into, was a city of immense proportions. Its walls taking up a sizable portion of the valley. A stream running through a small dip in the ground was funneled both into the city, and through a man-made sluice that was gated by a fence that ran directly beside the entrance to the city.

"We made it! I just hope everyone hasn't been worrying too much." Connie pondered as Vanilla approached the gate, where two guards without trotmobiles stood to either side of the gate. They nodded silently as they looked the Earl over and deemed it non-threatening, the gate then opening via a lever beside the left guard. Stepping through, Vanilla's eyes widened in surprise as he finally took in the true immensity of the town.

"Whoa..." Was the awed expression of the youth as he looked around. To his right was a huge factory complex, a sign reading: **GTW Factory: The leader in steel and the lifeblood of Garland!**

Several warehouses could be seen near the fenced off area, with men and trotmobiles carrying metal and palettes all around. Overhead, a bridge for the train tracks spanned from the right wall, all the way past a coliseum on the left to a station. A canal started left of the entrance and out towards a large reservoir that winded through the middle of the city, where Vanilla could see tall buildings reaching high into the sky like grand oaks.

"This is Happy Garland, we're finally here!" Connie said, the distant toll of a grand clock chiming somewhere in the distance as evening settled in. "Just keep on this street, look for the Lobster inn." She added, pointing straight ahead where the street forked at an angle. Vanilla slowed as he neared the junction, a lantern (which Connie explained was a traffic light) flashed orange, while other drivers made their turns. Once it turned green, Vanilla merged into the flow of traffic, a brisk, yet slow pace.

"It's amazing!" He thought aloud as they passed over one of the bridges overlooking the reservoir. The water sparkled in the light of lampposts and reflected the orange light of dusk.

"I told you it was bigger than Nefroburg." Connie said with a teasingly sweet jab. The road curved to the left and continued down a long street surrounded on both sides by tall buildings.

"There, that's where we need to go." Connie said, pointing to a building of medium height. A glowing in the shape of a lobster glowed a light red.

"The Lobster Inn. That's where we're staying for the duration of our tour here. Of course we do some smaller concerts in the lounge since the manager is a friend of Marjoram's." Connie continued as Vanilla turned off from the road and parked near an empty next to a large set of stairs beside the inn. Once the Earl was safely switched off, Vanilla helped Connie retrieve her suitcase.

"Shall we?" Connie asked as the two made their way to the set of double doors of the Inn. Inside was a large lounge, not unlike the one from James' inn, but at least three times that. Tables littered the area, their chairs upturned for the present moment. A bar sat to the far right, nestled at the foot of the staircase that led to the upstairs rooms. Towards the back of the room was a stage with a piano and several other instruments. It was here that Vanilla and Connie spotted the other Globetrotters.

"Well well, look who's here." A sultry voice said, Savory the sexy blonde stated with a warm smile as she turned to see the two. Basil and Marjoram turned as she said this, both looking quite surprised.

"Hey, you made it!" Basil said with near disbelief, taking a moment to clean his glasses just to be sure he was seeing things right.

"Connie, you're alright. Thank goodness." Marjoram said with a relieved sigh. Connie frowned slightly, as though the warm welcome was instead a severe scolding.

"Sorry for making you guys worry..." She said, looking down at her feet as she approached the stage with Vanilla.

"But we heard there was a train accident. How did you get here?" Marjoram asked, Basil and Savory all equally looking confused. Connie brightened up, smiling as she gestured to Vanilla.

"Vanilla and I crossed the Sabbia desert in his trotmobile." At this, the other three band members gasped collectively.

"The Sabbia desert? Are you serious?" Basil said, astounded. His expression like a child who was told by an adult some incredible feat. Vanilla scratched his head, nervously laughing as he thought back to the day's journey.

"It wasn't actually all that bad." He finally said, choosing to not mention Connie's run-in with the thieves. Basil's awed expression only grew more.

"But aren't there thieves out there? That's amazing that you two made it through without any trouble." He said, the admiration in his tone very evident. Savory chortled, "Basil, you really can be a kid sometimes. I'm sure it's not all that impressive." She said, the others joining her in a little laugh. The short, green jacket wearing boy blushed profusely, snickering at his friend's playful remark. However Connie's laugh faded as she looked around, starting to become aware that something was amiss.

"Wait a minute... Where's Fennel?"

**TO BE CONTINUED**

(In your Voice; instrumental version begins to play)

Connie is shown looking aghast, the others having relayed a shocking piece of news to her.

_Feelings of loathing creep in the hearts of those who take blame_

Vanilla is running through the streets of Happy Garland, towards a massive hotel near a train station.

_The boy struggles to find his path in this new world, his mind ablaze with questions_

Connie is speaking with Fennel at a table inside a restaurant.

_As the girl makes amends for a mistake she may not have made_

"Next time, on Steambot Chronicles! _Time for me to fly_."

Yea, I thought I might try epic episode like previews. Tell me what you think, though it's really just a random experiment I felt like trying. As for my question about song titles. The next chapter will concern Fennel's departure. Now as of right now, the only names I can think of are "Splitting up" "Breaking up is the hardest part" and "Breaking up is hard to do"

Now of course the name doesn't have to necessarily involve those exact words, but simply be able to relate to a situation where someone leaves, to strike out on their own. Any ideas will be greatly appreciated. Of course I'll probably take a little break before I start on chapter 9, so there's not big rush on getting that name.

I'm also sure many of you are wondering what happened to "Sand Castle", the boss that appears after you leave the Desert Hornet hideout. Well, I played with the encounter in my head, and couldn't make anything work. For one, the battle is just absurd, a freaking submersible, in a desert? Not only would that be impossible given the technology of the Steambot world, it just seemed silly for a battle station/mech fortress to be sinking and emerging. I also immediately axed the notion of it flying, as we know there aren't "flying" trotmobiles (well, not yet maybe :P). So the current scene with the Bloody Mantis agent was added in it's place. Originally I was going to have 0007 attack Vanilla and then leave half-way into the fight, but I wasn't too sure if that would fit in properly, especially after all the excitement back in the Hornet's base. Of course, if anyone can think of a good way to have the two fight then by all means say so, just be sure to give a nice detail of what could happen.

As for the other scenes, please feel free to point out if any of them felt too short or lacked description (I personally wonder if I flubbed Happy Garland's big introduction). I'm sure some of you might be confused by Delsen's assistant having no name. I just couldn't think of anything (considering he doesn't have one in the actual game) and that I was afraid of coming off as insensitive if I slapped him with a random Arabic/Muslim name. But, if anyone can think of something that might fit and not sound offensive, I'm all ears (maybe a type of spice from the middle East? That could work). As before, any ideas for improvement are welcome. Feel free to drop a review, you know I love 'em! ;)


	9. Session 9

Steambot Chronicles

Hello, sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Things have been a bit chaotic back home. My grandmother's house was robbed and then my father wound up in the hospital for two weeks. But thankfully things are looking better, so there's no immediate concerns, but I'll try to be faster next time! _. However, I was able to come up with names for chapters _10_-_13_ and _16_, but _14 _and_ 15_ still need titles. 14 will largely revolve around learning about one's self, so I guess what I would need would be something like an image song, maybe? One song could be Reflection (Who I am) from Mulan, which is a song about seeing the inner self. 15 is bit more about having an adventure, solving some kind of mystery, just something adventurous basically. But as always, any ideas for a song name are welcome. Well enough talking, on with the story!

_Chapter 9_ ~ _Time for me to Fly_

Silence fell over the lounge as Connie looked around to each of her friends, who had suddenly fallen quiet after her question was raised. Their faces all reflecting different looks of nervousness and unease.

"Where's Fennel? Did something happen?" Connie asked, starting to look worried. Basil scratched his head, trying his best to avoid the girl's pleading eyes, while Savory bit her lower lip, trying to find words that weren't coming to her. Finally it was Marjoram who broke the restless air that began to hang over them.

"Fennel's gone... He said he doesn't want to play in the band anymore." The rotund drummer said quietly, clearly prepared for Connie's look of shock.

'What?" The others visibly flinched, hearing the hurt in Connie's voice. "But why?" She asked, hanging her head low like a disappointed child, dropping her suitcase with a '**THUD**' on the floor.

"He's been acting up for a while, and when you left..." Basil began to say, but frowned, noting how it wasn't helping with Connie's depressed look.

"It's all because I left isn't it?" Connie frowned, "I'll go talk to him." She was about to turn when Marjoram spoke up again.

"It won't do any good, we've already tried." He said, shaking his head.

"I should at least apologize!" Connie said pleadingly, her voice shaking slightly. Marjoram sighed, knowing that there was little he could do to persuade Connie. "He's at the station hotel, just... don't give your hopes up, ok?" Marjoram said, to which Connie nodded thankfully as she turned and left the inn. Vanilla watched silently, at a loss for words as the reality of the situation settled in. How else could he react? He knew nothing of the group, and thus could not contribute to this unsettling change they were going through. He was tempted to follow after, but noticed Savory approaching him.

"I'm sorry to have to bother you like this, but... Could you keep an eye on Connie? She has a habit of taking things a little too personally." The older, blonde haired woman explained. Vanilla smiled, for all he had been through there was little need in asking anything of him.

"Sure. But where is the hotel?" He asked as he realized he was about to leave the inn without even knowing where to go. Savory smiled coyly, while Marjoram grinned and stepped forward, leading Vanilla to the door. Stepping out into the town, he pointed Vanilla up the road.

"It's easy, just head north on this street and take the first left across the bridge, you'll come straight to the train station and the hotel is right next to it in the plaza." The drummer explained carefully so Vanilla understood. With a nod, the youth hurried down the busy street.

Even as evening started to settle in, the sidewalks were still active with men in business suits and women dressed in fine gowns, while children dressed in uniforms marched in orderly lines. It was vastly different from the more quaint and laid back nature of Nefroburg. The towering buildings, advanced technology (the trolleys, moving along the tracks in the center of the streets), and rich atmosphere gave a city a grander, almost oppressive feel. As he came to an intersection, he could see the bridge Marjoram had mentioned, using the crosswalk to move across the street. A large cathedral could be seen to Vanilla's right, the sound of a pipe organ playing inside, while a bank occupied the building directly to his left.

"I wonder if I ever lived in a place like this?" Vanilla thought to himself as he walked across the bridge at a brisk pace, soaking in the sights around him. Lamps all around slowly came to life like fireflies, their warm glow dotting the area. Straight ahead, Vanilla could see the station, a massive two story building that sat at the far end of a plaza, with two more buildings to either side. The left was a grand looking arena, much larger than Dino's place. The one on the right, the Station Hotel, was simply enormous, standing at least five stories, and connected via a sky-way to another building of the same size. As the youth crossed over into the plaza, he could finally marvel at the grand architecture that surrounded him.

"Whoa..." He breathlessly said, as he took in the scale of the arena, a stadium style structure which roared from within from the sounds of cheering crowds. The station looked more like a mansion, with intricate architecture and buttresses that gave it a very rich look. Passing by tree planted in the center of the square, Vanilla strolled towards the hotel, which loomed high into the air with its grand presence. Mahogany doors carved with finely detailed edges rested in the threshold of the building, waiting to greet any who wished to enter the establishment, Vanilla feeling very out of place in his desert garb as he grasped the golden door handles and pushed them open.

"Welcome, sir." A voice said, the doorman. He looked to be about in his twenties, with a square jaw and a friendly face despite his broad physique, dressed up in a green outfit with white and yellow buttons. He bowed to Vanilla, dipping his head low and gesturing with a gloved hand to the ritzy looking lobby,

"This is the Garland Station Hotel, the finest establishment in the entire city! Please, make yourself at home." The man continued with a rehearsed greeting as he stood up straight again. "We always have open rooms ready to accommodate our guests." He pointed to a bellhop carrying a suit case up a set of stairs. "And our ballroom restaurant is always open, our staff of great cooks always willing to prepare a meal fit for royalty." He made an overblown gesture to a set of doors in the far left corner, where a woman dressed in the same outfit stood. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, just ask, sir." The man finished, leaving Vanilla a bit dazzled, and befuddled by the long introduction.

"Um.. thanks, I guess." Vanilla began as he recovered his senses, "Actually, I'm looking for Fennel, of the Globetrotters." He asked, to which the doorman lit up excitedly.

"Ah yes, Mr Fennel. In fact, Miss Coriander herself just came by asking for his whereabouts as well. He's in the ballroom." The doorman explained, once again gesturing to the double doors.

"Thanks." And the youth immediately made his way for the doors, the woman bowing and pulling open the door for him. "Thank you choosing our fine ballroom and restaurant, sir." She said as Vanilla passed by with a quickly uttered "Thanks."

The ballroom was beyond impressive, both for its size and décor. The high ceiling supported a grand chandelier, which bathed the room in a warm glow. An expensive vermillion carpet covered the floor, where sturdy tables carved from fine wood were laid out decoratively in the room before a stage, it's blue curtains closed for now, but always ready to part for a grand show. At the center of the room, by the table nearest the stage, were four figures, two of which Vanilla recognized as Connie and Fennel. The other two were unknown. One was fat, and wore a red suspenders and faded black shirt, and had some piercings. While the other was like a scrawny doppelganger, only with a red jacket and a mohawk.

"I'll tell you what I told the others; I'm not coming back!" Fennel said with a firm tone, leaning back in chair, one arm casually slung over the back as he looked at a dejected Connie.

"I'm sorry I left without saying anything, Fennel. I —" The girl was about to started another heartfelt apology.

"It has nothing to do with your sudden departure!" Fennel snapped, not out of anger, but to get Connie's attention, "I understand why you left, all of us did." He sat up, tilting his shades down to expose a pair of cerulean eyes which looked at her with a soft expression. "Look, don't fret over it." He said, leaning forward to pat the girl on the head like an affectionate older brother. "I was already planning to leave for quite some time..." He added, cupping his hands together and taking on a more intellectual posture, the collar of his blue flannel shirt sticking out as his shoulders shifted. "I want to write _my own_ music." He stated calmly.

"...Your own music?" Connie echoed, slightly confused. Fennel nodded, sliding the shades back up to their proper position. "Yea. I've been having these, _ideas_. You see? If everything works out, I'll change the face of music, I could pave the way for a revolution." Fennel said, staring up towards the ceiling as his slick tone became filled with an inspired and excited one.

"So, this is something you really want to do, huh?" Connie asked, not sounding as saddened as before, but still there was faint trace of heartbreak. "Yeah, it is. I'm sorry for making you worry like that, but I felt that now was a good time to leave the nest." Fennel answered, sincere and calm. "It's time I take flight and make my own name in this world, just as I hope you guys continue to make great music as well." He turned, looking past Connie towards Vanilla, who had quietly approached the group amidst the ongoing conversation.

"You can play the guitar, can't you? I would hope all those lessons I gave you would have stuck." The slick looking guitarist said with a grin, a charming smile that made girls swoon with adoration. Connie nodded, quietly accepting her friend's departure. Sensing the unease about leaving a hole in the roster, Fennel made a gesture towards the youth. "But if you really need someone else, why not ask him?" All heads turned to see Vanilla, who felt a bit sheepish as all eyes fell on him.

"Vanilla?" Connie seemed a bit surprised to see the youth, but quickly appeared to understand why he was there. Vanilla however was quite surprised by Fennel's suggestion.

"I... well..." Vanilla tried to say, a bit overwhelmed by this vote of confidence.

"You did say he had a harmonica, right? Kid obviously must have talent if he's carrying an instrument like that." Fennel went on, laying on the compliments to a still surprised Vanilla. Connie at first seemed just as taken by surprise, then lit up.

"Yea, and he's actually pretty good, too. We had a little jam session while we were crossing the Sabbia desert last night." The girl said, making Vanilla blush a little as he heard the newest compliment.

"Then it's settled, you're my replacement, kid." Fennel said with a sense of finality in his voice to Vanilla. "Now please, just go back to the restaurant. I don't want this to hold you guys back." He added with a sincere tone. Connie turned, nodding her head gently, "Alright, take care, Fennel. And good luck." She then left the ballroom, casting one last quick look to her former guitarist before closing the door.

"She's a good kid, but I wish she'd stop taking things so personally." Fennel said with a light chuckle. It wasn't meant to be mean sounding, it was an honest remark, even Vanilla could understand that despite the guitarist's laid back look. "I'm sure you've been getting this a lot, but you keep an eye on her, you hear?" He firmly looked at the youth, who could feel the sharp eyes even from behind the shades. Vanilla nodded, a slight grin as he realized he had been asked that question quite often now. "Good, better go and catch up with her. Though you should drop by tomorrow, I could use your help with something." Fennel added, curtly waving as Vanilla turned and left in a hurry to find Connie.

"Now why'd you go and ask him to help us, Fennel?" The chubby looking bandmate, the bassist, asked, his voice carrying a bit of an accent. Fennel shrugged, a cool, relaxed grin on his face.

"He may not look it, Benjamin, but he's a good kid. I think he'd be good at helping us out." The guitarist said as he lounged back in his seat. The lanky looking man with the mohawk scratched his chin, deep in thought.

"All he needs is a mohawk and he'd fit in perfectly!" The strange looking drummer remarked, much to the bemused looks of his fellow bandmates.

"Franklin, will you shut your gob about the freakin' mohawks already?"

#

"Connie!" Vanilla called out to the girl, who was halfway across the bridge he had crossed earlier. Thankfully, traffic was minimal this evening, with only a few cars and trotmobiles passing by like specters, their glowing headlights trailing in the dark.

"Oh, Vanilla." Connie stopped and turned as the boy caught up with her, stopping a few feet short of her as he suddenly felt winded from jogging from the hotel all the way up to her. She giggled, quietly, remarking how silly he looked as he caught his breath. Once the youth recovered, the two set off together down the brightly lit street.

"Sorry about that." Connie said after a brief moment of silence, catching Vanilla off guard.

"For what?"

"Running off like that, and making such a fuss over Fennel." The girl explained, making Vanilla frown.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." The youth started, Connie looking at him as though she wanted to say something else, but he stopped her, "You were just doing what you thought was right, there's nothing wrong with that." He added, which made Connie smile with gratitude. Silence again settled between them as they turned the corner by the bank, finally broken by Vanilla this time.

"I wonder what the others will think, about me joining." The blonde had an honest look of uncertainty on his face.

"I think it's a great idea. You already showed you're a pro on the harmonica back in the oasis. I'm sure they'll love the idea." Connie said enthusiastically, which made Vanilla happy to see she was overcoming her earlier feelings of guilt. Just as the two made their way over the crosswalk, Vanilla suddenly felt a chill running down the back of his neck.

"Is something wrong?" Connie asked, only for Vanilla to suddenly grasp her hand and start pulling her along the empty street. The youth recognized that feeling, it was that same ill-feeling he felt from that man in black. But it was all around him, like a pack of wolves that had surrounded a lost lamb. As he led Connie, he swore the shadows were watching him, like ghostly figures melded within the dark were eyeing his every step. _Is it those bloody mantis men?_

"Vanilla? What's wrong?" Connie's concerned tone reached the youth, suddenly snapping him from his anxious thoughts. They were standing outside the Lobster Inn, the gentle glow of light spilling over from the small windows that lined the front of the building. The girl was looking perplexed, staring at the boy as he cast a few more looks around the street, only to be met with the distant cry of car horns and the hum of the lamps.

"It's nothing... Just thought I heard something, sorry." Vanilla said, turning to the girl, who frowned at the rather poor coverup. But before either could share another word, the doors of the Inn opened, bathing them in light as the figure of Marjoram appeared.

"Oh, it's you guys. I thought that was you I heard." The drummer said, smiling as he ushered for the two to enter.

As the doors closed, a man in black leaned out from the darkened alley beside a tall building across from the inn, adjust his dark glasses before calmly strolling around the corner.

Back inside the inn, Connie explained everything about Fennel's desire to pursue his own career in music to the rest of the group. They were obviously upset, but understood their friend and his choice for departing.

"What are we gonna do? We can't perform without a guitarist!" Basil said in a panic, grabbing at his hat while his face flashed with worry. Connie held up her hands to try and calm the violinist.

"I could do it, Fennel did give me a few lessons a while back, so I think I can handle it." The brunette offered. Marjoram thought it over for a second, then nodded approvingly. "Okay, then. Connie's on guitar." The drummer said, and was about to turn away when Connie piped up.

"Wait, I thought maybe Vanilla could play with us." This statement surprised the group, who all displayed varying looks of surprise, of course Basil's was just priceless. "Wh-what?" The short violinist stammered incredulously, while Marjoram and Savory looked uncertain, but intrigued by the offer. Connie had to laugh, well aware of her friends and their baffled looks. "Trust me, he's really good." The brunette insisted, looking pleadingly to her each of her friends.

"Well I guess it couldn't hurt to have another person playing." Marjoram said, giving a thumbs up.

"This should be interesting." Savory murmured with a sly grin. Basil shook his head, not entirely taken to the idea. "How is this gonna affect our sound though, Connie?" The younger boy asked, looking the only one who was completely unsure.

"Don't worry, he's really great. Remember that harmonica I mentioned? He's a pro with it!" Connie said confidently. Vanilla meanwhile felt bashful as all eyes turned on him, but he shook it off with a confident grin. "I promise I won't let you down." He said as reassuringly as he could.

"Alright, let's see what you got." Marjoram said, waving for Vanilla to step up onto the stage. Vanilla hesitated for a moment, only for Connie to gently tug on his hand and pull him onstage. "Don't worry, just do it like you did before in the oasis." She said with that same reassuring smile, which help Vanilla feel a little more confident. Marjoram then cleared his throat, and addressed the group.

"Basil, you're on violin. Savory, you take the piano, I'll handle the saxophone. Vanilla, you stand beside Connie." The drummer said, pointing everyone to their positions; Basil was downstage left, in front of Marjoram's drums. Connie took downstage center, picking up a guitar lying on the floor, while Savory sat behind a grand piano situated upstage right. Marjoram retrieved a saxophone from a case next to his drum set and took his place in the space behind Connie and Basil. Vanilla stood on downstage left, right next to Connie.

"Alright, we should probably practice the new song since we only got to do that once before." Marjoram suggested, the others nodding their agreement. Vanilla pulled out the harmonica, the polished silver gleaming in the light of the inn, and felt a nervous knot in his heart. After a moment, in which Marjoram counted down from three with an empty hand, the band began to play.

Savory started off with a soft piano chord similar to the somber hum Connie had done back in the desert. Meanwhile, Connie performed a few soft, though novice strums of the guitar strings. While Marjoram delivered a quick and jazzy blast from saxophone. As the song led up to the first verse, Vanilla pressed the harmonica to his lips.

_ Where do I, fit in the picture of your world? _

The piano gave an ambient boost to the words, while Vanilla began to string in a few bars from the harmonica, which blended in well, if a little off beat.

_ When you're soaring so high. And I am left alone _

Basil's timing with the violin was spot on, producing several quick strokes with the oversized instrument.

_Here on the ground; I can't, even see you anymore_

Vanilla tried to match up with the beginning of the verse, but visibly flinched as he hit a sour note, and nervously wondered if all eyes fell on him. But the song continued, uninterrupted.

_ So high up there, like a bird. I wish I could fly to you _

The saxophone in Marjoram's hands blared soulfully on the first four lyrics.

_ But where are my wings? You took them away from me _

The blonde youth carefully timed harmonica keys, creating a nice undertone to the words.

_ Never to give them back to me... _

As the song built up, the band finally reached that sweet spot, where each member's instrument perfectly synchronized with Connie's words, blending into a beautiful rise.

_ You stole them from my back; you ripped them off... _

_ The scars will be right there! _

Savory upped the piano's intensity, creating a heavier, more powerful melody.

_ And I'll never be able to fly right to you _

_ Only 'cause I can't. And it is you _

Marjoram stopped playing, and motioned for Vanilla and Basil to do so as well.

_ Who made it... Impossible... _

As Savory trailed off with a few more key notes, Connie ended the song with one last strum of the guitar. After a moment, all but Vanilla began to clap approvingly.

"That was great, everyone!" Connie beamed, giggling excitedly. Marjoram and Savory both nodded with agreement, while Basil looked winded, as though he had just started breathing again.

"Phew, glad that went over well. You're actually pretty good, for a newbie." The shorter boy said to Vanilla with a playful jab. The others all agreed, lavishing the blonde with their own praise.

"I told you he was good." Connie said, smiling slyly with a playful, know-it-all kind of tone.

"Well I'm sold. So, Vanilla, wanna join the band?" Marjoram said, extending a hand to the youth. Vanilla thought it over for a moment as the band turned their attention to him, all waiting on his decision. Deciding that it could fun, Vanilla accepted without further hesitation, shaking Marjoram's hand while Connie gave a squeal of delight.

"Excellent. Welcome aboard then, Vanilla." Marjoram said as he shook Vanilla's hand. "Now that that's out of the way, you think you're up for another round of practice?" Vanilla nodded, figuring he should get as much experience with the group as he could. The group then returned to their positions and began to practice "_In Your Voice_", with Marjoram playing the drums instead of the sax and Savory providing back-up vocals. It was like they had been playing together for ages, Vanilla's talents blending well despite the somewhat unorthodox instrument choice. And as they wrapped up the brief rehearsal, they were sharing jovial laughter.

"Sorry for the hard time earlier, you're amazing!" Basil was still lavishing praise on Vanilla, who took the compliments in stride.

"It's alright. I'm still surprised myself that I could do so well." The blonde admitted, looking over the harmonica with a fixed look. He was full of surprises, wasn't he? The thought of having so many hidden talents made Vanilla happy, even if they only returned in bits and pieces. Pocketing the small reed instrument, Vanilla heard a "_clank_" and pulled out the pendent, which he had pocketed earlier that morning so it wouldn't get lost.

"Whaaa!" Basil's irritating cry of alarm could be heard, drawing Vanilla's attention to the boy who looked like he had seen a ghost.

"W-w-wait a second. Isn't that _his_ pendent?" He stuttered, Marjoram and Savory now looking just as surprised by the sight of the pendent. Connie quickly hurried over to Vanilla's side, defensively holding her hands up. "Wait, it's not Mallow. He doesn't even remember how he got the pendent in the first place!" She said, noticing the looks of concern on her friends faces.

"But that's definitely Mallow's..." Marjoram stated, looking pensive. Vanilla frowned, feeling as though he had made some of mistake. But it was Savory who spoke up amidst the confusion.

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. Besides, he doesn't even look like Mallow." The tall blonde said, a warm smile trying to lift the mood from it's current state. Marjoram and Basil both concurred, hastily apologizing for their mistake.

"It's ok." Vanilla said with a shrug, _not the fist time it happened_. He grinned inwardly, bemused by the thought of this mistake occurring again.

"I think we all need some rest. It's been a crazy day." Savory said, a notion that everyone agreed with. Dustin, the owner of the inn, gave Vanilla directions for the upstairs floor, explaining that the showers were located directly across from the landing, while the rooms were to the right of it. Later, after a much needed shower, Vanilla was walking through the halls of the 1st looking for the boy's room, where Marjoram and Basil were staying. Opening a door, he was met by an alarmed cry in the dimly lit room.

"Vanilla?" Connie's voice sounded, and the youth turned in surprised to see the girls raising their head from two singles. Her hair was untied, cascading to her shoulders, while a pair of pink pajamas added to an almost 'childish' cute look. Savory, meanwhile, was dressed in a 'mature' gown, a lavender robe with red trim that did little to hide the older woman's alluring figure. Vanilla struggled not to let a grin spread on his face as he watched both girls sit up.

"Oh, sorry. I was just looking for the boy's room." Vanilla said, feeling his face heat up from the looks of the two slightly annoyed girls. Connie puffed her cheeks, while Savory made a coy smirk.

"It's the the third door over from ours." The young songstress said, letting out a tired yawn. "Don't worry about your clothes, I dropped them off in the room so they'd be ready." She added.

"Ok... Sorry..." Vanilla murmured, backing up to the door, more bashful as he had ever been in his life. Connie grinned sleepily and waved her hand as the boy turned and left the room.

"Such a rude little boy, aren't we? Barging into a lady's room unannounced." Savory chuckled as the youth closed the door, uttering another apology, whose hair seemed to stand on end. Taking a moment to let his face cool, Vanilla headed down the wide hall and found the right room, where Marjoram and Basil were already fast asleep. Spotting his clothes on the nightstand next to the empty single, Vanilla sat down and let out a sigh.

"It really has been a crazy day, huh?" He thought aloud, the only response in the quiet room being Marjoram's snoring, and Basil's dreamily murmuring _Savory_. Laying down, Vanilla yawned as the weight of his fatigue wash over him, his waning conscious fading as he fell asleep. The same grin from before returned, as did a hushed murmur.

"Heheh, cute pajamas..."

#

Vanilla awoke with a hearty and refreshed yawn, sitting up in bed he stretched his arms out. It was about quarter after ten, the light of the sun was shining through the windows in rich golden rays. The other two beds were empty, Basil and Marjoram having long since awakened and left. Throwing his feet to the cool floor, Vanilla allowed the brief chill to surge through him and disperse the lingering sleepiness. Donning his old clothes, which had been given a courtesy wash by Connie, Vanilla slipped on his shoes and scooted over to a mirror that sat in front of a small desk. Brushing back his unruly bangs and putting on the pendent, Vanilla smiled approvingly.

"Lookin' good!" He said to himself, with a cheesy grin, then headed for the door. Downstairs in the lounge, he saw the others sitting around a table and in the middle of breakfast. Connie spotted him, and waved excitedly.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, sleepyhead!" The brunette teasingly said, Vanilla making a strange face and a dull groan in response. The others laughed at the spectacle, and Basil scooted his chair to the side, allowing space for a fifth seat.

"There's still some food left, help yourself." Marjoram offered, sliding a tray with some sausage, pancakes, toast, and half a pot of coffee on it. Pulling out the seat, Vanilla sat down between Basil and Connie.

"Thanks." He said, reaching for an unused plate. As he loaded up, Marjoram cleared his throat, filling everyone in on the current agenda.

"Well, I called the station manager a while ago, and he said that because of the incident in the _Quail Tunnels_, our original performance date has been pushed back." The drummer stated, noting the frowns of disappointment from his friends. "But, he did say the day after tomorrow should be fine."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Basil said, chewing on a piece of toast somewhat noisily.

"Well, at least I'll have time to practice with the guitar a bit more." Connie said as she took a sip from her coffee. "Guess we ran here in a panic for nothing." She murmured to Vanilla with a grin.

"So, Vanilla." Savory chimed in, having previously been engrossed in the newspaper she had just laid on the table, "Got any plans for today?" She asked, the question taking the boy by surprise.

"Ugh, no. Not really. Though I did think I'd look around town, you know, get familiar with the place." The youth answered honestly as he cut a piece of sausage and took a bite.

"I was thinking, if you weren't busy..." The voluptuous back-up vocalist started, Vanilla listening as ate a slice of toast. "Maybe you'd be up for dinner, say, tonight maybe?" And Vanilla promptly covered his mouth to avoid spitting the toast crumbs as he heard the question, Basil coughing roughly as he himself choked down a harsh swig of his tea. Looks of astonishment could be seen on Connie, Marjoram, and Basil's faces as they stared between Savory and Vanilla.

"Wh-what?" Basil stuttered, shocked to say the least. Vanilla was frozen, unable to respond to the proposal. Shaking his head, he saw the tall blonde smile warmly, waiting for his response.

"S-s-sure, ok. I guess." He stammered, feeling incredibly awkward. It was one thing to be asked out on a date by a girl, but by one he had only meet. Basil turned and glared at the youth, looking incredulous.

"HEY!" The short violinist started, his face looking red. But it didn't look to be out of anger, but of something else...

"It's alright, Basil. It's just a friendly dinner invitation." Savory said,unable to resist a small chuckle as she saw the two boys exchange perplexed looks. She then continued, "I'll meet you at the Riverside Hotel Restaurant at 7, alright? It's right across from the Station Hotel, where you found Fennel." She said, the boy quietly nodding in understanding.

"You ok, Connie?" Vanilla asked, noting that the girl had been quiet throughout the brief confusion. She turned with a slight start, as though momentarily lost in a daze.

"Oh! Yea, I'm fine. Just surprised. I mean, you're usually so busy, Savory." Connie answered, just briefly glancing to Vanilla before addressing her older bandmate. The slightly older woman gave a shrug, her lips pressing into a gentle grin.

"I know, but I've got some free time today. So I thought our new friend could use night on the town. You don't mind, do you?" She asked sweetly.

"No! Nothing's wrong with that." Both, Connie and Basil, responded, then looked at each other in confusion. Savory grinned, a playful look of knowing on her face, while Vanilla and Marjoram seemed stumped by all of the confusion going on around the breakfast table. The next few minutes passed in silence, everyone quietly finishing their meals.

"I guess I'll check with the station again about our concert." Marjoram said, excusing himself from the table and heading for the front counter, where Dustin presented him with a telephone.

"I, uh.. need to go and tune my bass." Basil said meekly, and left to go on stage for his violin. Vanilla felt as though he were sitting on a hot seat, the two women of the band still seated at the table with him.

"Well, I guess I'll go and check out the town for a while..." He rose up, hurriedly making his excuse to leave. Connie didn't say a word, just nodding quietly. Savory grinned again, "Ok, just remember; 7 sharp." The woman stated.

"Yea, I'll be there." Vanilla answered, heading for the door. He cast one last look back to the girls, then threw open the doors and left the inn. _Phew! That was awkward._ He thought to himself as he allowed his racing pulse to settle. _I can't believe it, I've actually been asked out on a date!_ Vanilla now couldn't resist a dopey grin to appear on his face.

"Guess I'll be needing some new threads." He thought out loud, taking a quick look at his clothes. While they were still in great shape, despite the hectic week they had been through, Vanilla was not foolish enough to think they'd pass for dating attire. _Oh yea, that's right!_ A thought quickly came to mind. _I've got that cash Mr Delsen gave me._ Vanilla remembered the bag of 500 UR, and fished it from his pocket. The coins jingled around with a muffled sound, but Vanilla realized that it might not be enough. Suddenly, he recalled the foreman from Wagtail, and the account that was to be set in his name.

"Guess it's time to make a withdrawal." He mused, taking off down the street. Pedestrian traffic was much more dense now, with men dressed in black and gray business suits carrying briefcases moving in large numbers. As he neared the bank by the corner where the bridge was, he could hear the loud clamor of voices coming from inside. The lobby looked like an active beehive, except instead of busybody drones, it was filled with angry brokers and people crunching numbers, shouting out names of businesses and numbers that confused Vanilla.

"Yes, sir?" A teller called out to Vanilla over the confusion mass of noise. Wading through the dense crowd, Vanilla managed to reach the teller, a young woman dressed in an office work suit. She smiled pleasantly, "Hello, and welcome to the Garland first National bank. How may I help you?"

"I was told that an account would be opened here under my name." The youth said, half-shouting the words so he could be heard properly.

"Name, please." The teller asked, pulling out a thick stack of papers and readying herself to search for a name.

"Vanilla."

"Alright, let me see here...Ah, here we are!" The woman said, using a finger to pinpoint the name, tapping on it to be sure she had it correctly. "Let's see, you have total balance of 1000 UR. Would you like to make a withdrawal or a deposit?" She asked.

"A withdrawal, please." Vanilla answered. The teller pulled out a small sheet of paper, and slipped it under the open space in the window of the box.

"Please write your name, and the amount you would like to take out. I'll also get you some deposit slips, so you'll have some ready if you decide to place some money in your account." The woman explained, using the tip of a pen to give Vanilla directions. Deciding he only needed an extra bit of cash, Vanilla withdrew 300 UR, figuring 800 would be more than enough for his new suit, and whatever the cost of his dinner with Savory would be.

"Thank you very much, sir. Will that be all for today?" The teller asked with a smile.

"That's fine, thanks." Vanilla replied, turning away as he pocketed the coin purse, which now swelled with the additional weight of cash. As he made his way to leave, he heard a voice call out to him.

"Sir? Excuse me." Turning, Vanilla saw a tall man wearing a gray sweater vest and matching slacks approaching. He had horn rimmed glasses and had short dark hair which was thinning along the back and sides. He wore a toothy smile, like an excited salesman ready to throw their latest pitch. In his hands he carried a small notepad, several of its pages either missing or covered in scribbled writing.

"Yea?" Vanilla answered, a little perplexed.

"I'm an editor from the _Urban Times_, a local newspaper. The name's Lance, and I'm doing a survey for our column about the everyday citizen. I thought maybe I could ask you some questions? Like how are you enjoying life in Happy Garland? Do you feel that there are things that should change?" Lance inquired, flipping through his notebook until he came to some blank pages, a pen at the ready.

"Um.. actually. I'm not from around here. I only got here yesterday." Vanilla answered, then noticed that Lance's smile fade slightly, "Oh... My mistake." He was about to turn away, then stopped.

"Wait, you arrived only yesterday? But the trains haven't been active since the incident back on Wednesday." Lance stated, looking puzzled.

"Yea, me and my friend went through the Sabbia Desert." Vanilla said, casually as always. Lance however lit up much like Basil, as though he were looking at a full blown hero before him. "Really, that's quite impressive for a kid like yourself. How about you come with me to the agency for an interview?" The reporter asked, leading Vanilla out and away from the bank, the youth trying to mention he had other things to do. They were heading back down the street to where the Lobster Inn was, but stopped at the first building next to the bank. A plaque said: **Garland Newspaper Company**.

"Here we are. I promise this should only take a minute." Lance said, opening the door for Vanilla. Inside, the interior was gloomy. Dust had long since settled on the windows of the large lobby, which was only about 10 feet by 20, with a flight of stairs that lead to the first, second, and third floors, while a single door-less frame was nestled in the far right wall.

"Sorry about the mess, we haven't had much time to clean in a while..." Lance said, feigning absentmindedness about the unkempt room. He then led Vanilla up the steps and through the door on the first landing. Inside was an office, with three desks. Two were pressed together face to face, while the third was situated at the far end of the room from the door. Shelves filled with disorganized folders lined the wall beside the door, while papers were strewn all over the place. Typewriters were buried under debris, crumpled papers and other pieces of trash littering the area.

"Lance?" A girl's voice called, and the two men turned to see a girl with short dirty blonde hair and brown suspenders and a white pinstriped shirt sitting at the desk facing the windows of the dimly lighted room. She wore a little beret, which only added to her somewhat tomboyish looks, although Vanilla had to admit it actually made her look pretty cute.

"Hey, Betty. Check this; this kid here says he crossed the Sabbia all by himself!" Lance said, gently nudging Vanilla to step forward. Before the youth could correct the reporter, the girl was out of her seat and shaking Vanilla's hand vigorously.

"Pleased to meet you, umm..." Betty started, making a face when she realized she didn't know the boy's name.

"Vanilla."

"Nice to meet you, Vanilla! I'm Betty, but you can just call me Ms. Betty." The girl said, speaking with a rather hyper, almost fast manner. Vanilla looked to Lance, who shrugged and murmured "Just humor her."

"Alright, Ms. Betty." Vanilla responded with a smile, the girl beaming happily. "Ooh, aren't you just the cutest thing." Betty cooed playfully.

"Lance... I really don't think an article about some kid crossing the desert is gonna cut it." A gruff voice said. All three heads turns to the farthest desk, where a balding, fat middle-aged man sat mulling over a pile of documents. He lowered the papers to look at his two reporters and their newest source, his wrinkled face an expression of disillusion, not frustration.

"That's our editor-in-chief." Ms. Betty whispered as Lance stepped forward.

"I know, J. But what other choice do we have? You said it yourself, if we don't have a big story by the end of the month, we may as well call it quits." Lance tried to reason with the editor. The man placed a frail looking pair of glasses on and looked at Lance squarely.

"Maybe so, but you can't expect a story about some kid going through Sabbia would be anything noteworthy, can you? People are always crossing through that place, we may as well do an interview with one of the caravans." The chief said, trying to sound reasonable and not condescending, "Unless we can nab a story that will turn heads, then we're finished." Lance and Betty both looked saddened, but understood their situation. Vanilla stood in silence, realizing that they were a dying company on the verge of bankruptcy.

"Ugh!" Betty grumbled, sitting back at her desk, crossing her legs as she fumed. "If only the lines weren't so bad, I could get more info about that lead from Nefroburg."

"What lead is that?" Vanilla asked, piping up when he heard the name of the town. Betty shrugged, seeing no harm in talking openly about her source.

"I was about to talk with a contact I have back in Nefroburg who said they had a big story about that bandit attack back on Tuesday." Ms. Betty stated, her tone calming down significantly.

"Wait, you mean the Killer Elephants?" Vanilla asked, his eyes widening in realization.

"Yea, that's it. My contact said someone got those thugs to back off and let the town go, but before I could find out who, the phone lines started acting up. And it would have been a great article too!" Ms. Betty pouted, cupping her face in exhaustion and frustration.

"Actually, I know all about what happened with the Killer Elephants." Vanilla said, and watched as Betty, Lance, and the editor-in-chief all looked at him like he was an alien.

"Huh?" They all stood up and waited for the youth to continue.

"Yea... I um... beat their boss and was made the new leader." Vanilla admitted, his tone modest, like a kid who casually speaking about a minor feat. Betty and Lance both appeared in front of Vanilla, their notepads open and ready to write. "Seriously!" They both stammered, amazed by this blessing turn of events. Before Vanilla knew it, he was being asked questions about the incident, from the moment the KE had taken over Nefroburg, to the exact time he infiltrated their hideout and took on Bobby, the Ex-Boss.

"Amazing! This is a page 1 headline!" The editor-in-chief was elated, his dour attitude now joyful. "Kid, you may have just saved this floundering newspaper from going under." He said, unable to contain his happiness. Betty and Lance, who had begun typing away at their desks, grinned from ear to ear.

"With this story, we just might have to do a second printing!" Ms. Betty said, her fingers dancing across the keys of the typewriter at a lightning pace. Lance nodded in agreement, his eyes switching between checking his work and the notes he had written down. Vanilla was happy to have helped, even if he had not expected to become a helpful source for a struggling newspaper. Life's funny that way, isn't it?

"I wish I could pay you back for this great story." The chief said, shaking Vanilla's hand as the youth announced his departure.

"No, you don't have to do that. I'm just glad that I could be of help." Vanilla said, shaking his head.

"Of course, but even the humble deserve something for their great deeds. Tell you what, I'll add some stocks to your account. We may not be raking in the big dollars, but if this story really sells, we just might turn a profit for once after all these years." The man said, and Vanilla accepted the offer out of gratitude. After he left the Urban Times, Vanilla took the crosswalk and walked along the line of shops, eventually finding a clothing store, _The Fashion Poseur_.

"Welcome!" A woman wearing a purple outfit, greeted the youth as he entered the boutique. It was probably about the size of a small apartment room, but carried a rich atmosphere to it. Rosy colors decorated the walls, while fine gowns and expensive suits made of rare silks and cottons in display cases, stood by the windows and on pedestals strewn about the room. Large changing booths ran along the wall opposite the door, with dense curtains that provided privacy for patrons. The air was heavy with a flowery perfume smell, which Vanilla found difficulty not reeling from.

"Looking for anything in particular?" The woman, who was probably in her forties, asked with a professional smile. She was determined to make a sale, and would use her best saleswoman skills to make that happen. Vanilla nodded, heading for the checkout counter.

"Yea, I was looking for a good suit."

"Ah, got a hot date, big boy?"

"Umm... something like that..." Vanilla blushed as the woman read his reaction like an open book. She then led him to a rack filled with several different suits. "As you can see, we offer a rich variety of formal attire, for any and all occasions." Retrieving a handful, she took to the nearest changing stall, handing him the various suits.

"Give 'em a try, handsome." And Vanilla slipped through the curtain. Over the next hour and a half, he tried on several different suits.

First was a suit consisting of a brown coat and slacks and green loafers, with an orange undershirt, and a silk top hat that had an "L" shaped buckle. But it didn't suit him.

Next he tried purple pinstripe outfit with a green tie, it seem too clownish.

Another was a dark shade of green, but even the saleswoman agreed that it didn't go with Vanilla's hair and eyes.

Finally Vanilla tried a white outfit made of silk, with leather shoes that had silver buckles. This actually fit quite well, the colors bringing out Vanilla's blue eyes. The saleswoman clasped her hands, as though aware that the deal was already made.

"I think we've got it." She said as the youth looked himself over in the full length mirror once more. It was a nice suit, really nice. After redressing in his own clothes, Vanilla went to the check-out to pay for his new suit.

"As a token of gratitude, we're offering a complimentary suitcase offer. Would you be interested, sir?" Vanilla thought for a second, then nodded, figuring that if he was gonna be traveling, he should start carrying his own luggage. The total price came out to be 350 UR, a considerable amount, but it would be worth it.

As Vanilla turned to leave and stash his new attire back at the inn, he caught sight of a dress being displayed by the window. It was a long pink dress, with three rose red ruffles at the hem. On its own, it was certainly eye-catching. But Vanilla could only begin to imagine how beautiful a girl could look wearing something as alluring as this dress, a girl like Connie.

"Excuse me, how much is that dress there?" Vanilla called over to the saleswoman, who perked up when it appeared another possible transaction could be made.

"Excellent eye, sir. That just happens to be the latest from the _Seven Sages_ Fashion group. It's said that only a handful of these dresses will be made." The woman explained, delivering a prepared spiel about the dress in question.

"How much is it?" Vanilla asked, suddenly fearing a steep price at the mention of the dress's rarity.

"12000 UR." The woman stated clearly. A pin dropping would have been heard in the silence that briefly followed, a shocked Vanilla standing staring mouth agape at the expensive price tag.

"I'm... gonna have to get back to you on that..." Vanilla excused himself, and left the shop. _That's... expensive._ He thought to himself as he returned to the inn in a matter of minutes. As he entered, he saw Connie and Marjoram on the stage talking. Basil was sitting by a table and checking the strings on his instrument, while Savory was nowhere to be found.

"Oh hey, Vanilla." The girl called as she spotted the blonde entering, who waved as he approached the stage.

"We were just going over the setup for the performance. What's up?" Connie took a seat as she spoke to Vanilla, who sat down alongside her.

"Eh, not much. Went to the bank and got some new clothes." The youth explained. They then spent the next couple of hours talking, with Vanilla asking questions about Happy Garland and the sights it had to offer.

"Well in the North end of town is Memorial Park, which was built to commemorate the town's Industrial Recovery, while the park itself was erected for the town 50th anniversary. And I'm sure you saw the arena across from the Station Hotel... Hmmm, let's see.." Connie tried to list off as many hotspots that she could think of, "Oh yea, there's the university across the street from the Riverside Hotel. They have such a beautiful open gallery." She said, fondly recalling younger days she would go to see the portraits there.

"Sounds nice. I'll have to check it out, sometime." Vanilla thought as they continued talking and ordered lunch. Marjoram and Basil joined them, while Savory remained absent.

"She might be out getting the reservations at the restaurant, it is a very popular place." Marjoram hazarded a guess as to why their friend was absent.

"Kinda weird that there's two hotels so close to one another." Vanilla commented, starting to think about it more closely.

"Actually, they're rival hotels." Marjoram said.

"Rival hotels?" Vanilla echoed, perplexed.

"Yea, they've been at each for about 30 years. No one really remembers why exactly, but it's been said that the owners of the two hotels have hated one another for quite some time. They always try to outdo the other in some way. Competing prices, luxury deals; all kinds of crazy tactics. Some say they're both trying to buy out the other so they can expand their service." Marjoram said as he sipped some tea. Vanilla shook his head, why such a rivalry existed was beyond him. They soon got lost in further discussion, and before Vanilla knew it the clock struck **5** with a chime.

"Well, I should go and see about a haircut." He rose from his seat, stretching out his stiff legs from having sat for so long. While he still had another 2 hours before his date, Vanilla decided he could use a haircut. Basil was kind enough to explain that there was one a little ways up the street, near the music shop and book store. Excusing himself, Vanilla left the inn once more and made his way up the street, passing a bakery and instrument shop along the way before spotting the barber's pole.

"Greetings, looking for a makeover?" A jolly voice greeted the youth as he entered the establishment. The barber was a big man, easily 6 and half feet tall, but also quite plump, his portly figure barely hidden behind the white shirt he wore. Despite his stature, he was quite friendly looking, wearing a welcoming smile. There were two other barbers, one a shorter man, and a young woman.

"Just take a seat, sir. A seat should be available soon." The big barber said, pointing to a small lounge comprised of a bench and coffee table near the window, Vanilla quietly nodding and doing so. The shop had a fruity kind of smell, likely the conflicting perfumes of the shampoos and conditioners that lined the shelves. All three chairs were occupied, and at least two other people were waiting besides Vanilla for their turn.

"And, there." The first barber said as he carefully snipped one last strand of black hair, carefully inspecting for any mistakes. Satisfied, he removed the smock from his customer, a dark haired man with glasses, and dusted off any stray hairs as he lowered the chair. The man stood up, brushing off his black suit and adjusting his glasses, which framed his sharp, charismatic face. He had two streaks of white hair to either side of his head, which could have been mistaken for light glare.

"Thanks, Joel." The man said with a refined tone, retrieving some money from his pocket and handing it to the barber. Draping a scarf around his shoulders, the man left for the door.

"Any time." Joel, the barber said with a curt nod as he cleaned off the seat and waved for another customer. The man headed for the door, but not before directing his gaze toward the youth, a smile curling his lips as he headed for the door. Vanilla turned to look back at the man, but he was gone, the door swinging closed. _Strange..._

It was about a good half hour before Vanilla was finally called up. It was the first barber, Joel.

"So, what'll it be?" He asked as Vanilla sat down in the leather seat.

"Well, I'm supposed to be wearing a suit for dinner tonight, but my hair is kinda fussy." Vanilla said, emphasizing the last word by trying to brush his hair back with his hands, only for it to bounce back into place.

"Not a problem." Joel said, placing a smock around Vanilla's neck and pumping the chair up. Turning it around, he tilted it and Vanilla back, so that the youth's head was laying on the brim of the sink in front. Closing his eyes, Vanilla relaxed as the barber rinsed his hair and lathered it with shampoo. Some time passed as Vanilla's hair was cleaned and combed out, Joel humming away as he trimmed a few errant bangs to even things out. Finally, the seat was lowered and Vanilla opened his eyes.

"All done." Joel said, gesturing to the mirror. Vanilla was quite satisfied with what he saw, his hair combed back and straightened out. Now all he needed to get the suit on.

"Great!" Vanilla praised as he got up and paid Joel. Glancing at a nearby clock, he could see it was ten before **6**, meaning Vanilla just about an hour before it was time to meet Savory. Running back down the street to the inn, he blazed up the stairs, leaving Connie and the others with bemused looks. Changing into his suit, Vanilla was glad he had gotten the haircut. Now he had a look to go with the attire.

"Looks like I still got some time, maybe I'll check out that gallery Connie mentioned." He thought as he checked a clock and saw he still had a good 45 minutes to go. Heading back down the stairs and out the door, Vanilla made his way towards the station area. It felt unnecessary to use the Earl, and it would help break in his new shoes a lot better to just walk. In no time, he was passing the bridge and passing by a tall building that had a sign: **Garland University**.

Inside was a large foyer, with benches situated in the middle and two exits, one for the bridge where Vanilla came from, and another facing towards the arena and station. A set of stairs leading up were situated in the far left corner. Along the walls, was an impressive assortment of pictures and portraits. Displays of important figureheads, history making moments, and depictions of the town from back in the day could be seen.

"Wow..." Vanilla was in awe of the gallery. Connie was right to praise it so.

"Ah, another patron of our gallery, eh?" A jovial voice said, and Vanilla turned to see a bearded man with a brown jacket and hat approach.

"Who are you?" The youth asked politely, half-turning to look at one of the paintings, a landscape of what appeared to be a large river. The man extended his hand for a shake, Vanilla accepting the gesture.

"I'm Theodore, the head of the art division, and curator of the gallery." The man introduced himself as he shook Vanilla's hand. "As you can see, we've collected a fine display of pieces from all across the country."

"They are very nice. Especially this one." Vanilla complimented, pointing to the river portrait. As he looked at it, he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity, as though he had seen the style somewhere before. Something about the brushwork was instantly familiar, yet eluding his thoughts.

"Ah, that is a personal favorite of mine." Theodore said fondly, stepping up to gaze upon the picture more closely, "It's been in the gallery for quite some time, at least 7 years or so." He added, cupping his chin as he admired the painting. Soft strokes had been used with light blue paint to create the effect of splashing water in the river, while a blend of gray and earthy colors formed the rocks and ground around it. Green trees peeked over the top of high cliffs, while a single, lonely shack could be seen far in the background on top of a narrow hill.

"It's amazing." Vanilla said, entranced by the mastery displayed in the coloring and brushwork. "Do you know who drew it?"

"Let's see.. Ah yes, I believe it was a young man named _Pablo_." At this, Vanilla shook his head, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning.

"Pablo made this?" He asked aloud, so that was what so familiar about the piece.

"Wait, do you know Pablo?" Theodore asked curiously, looking hopeful.

"Yea, I met him when I was passing through Fort Raven a few days ago. Why, do you know him?" Vanilla now asked, but Theodore shook his head.

"No, but his name is actually quite famous in these old walls. You see, before I came along, Pablo was a student here. According to the other faculty, his artistry was highly praised for its creativity and originality. He based off the _Shrike River_, and then donated it to the university before dropping out."

"Huh? He dropped out? Why?" Vanilla was shocked, unable to comprehend why a brilliant painter like Pablo would just leave school like that.

"I wish I knew, I've been wanting to meet him for quite some time. Even to this day, students always talk about his works and how they've been influenced by it." Theodore explained, leaving Vanilla with a quizzical expression. Suddenly, a bell chime sounded, and Vanilla's expression change to one of worry.

"Oh! It's 7, I've got to go!" He said, turning to see a clock and confirm his suspicions. He hastily said goodbye to Theodore and then took off for the exit. Thankfully, he was right across the street from the Riverside, and quickly hoofed it.

"I hope I'm not too late." Inside, Vanilla found himself in a lobby much like the one in the Station Hotel. It was a narrow room that extended from the first entrance to another a few feet down at an angle, with two sets of steps located near both entrances. Marble flooring gleamed under the glimmering chandeliers, while the main desk was located beneath an arch way that overlooked a single doorway.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" A woman greeted Vanilla at the desk. She had light red hair, and wore a blue outfit with black high-heels. She wore a name tag that said "Rosa", and she bowed politely as Vanilla approached.

"Yes, I'm looking for the restaurant. I'm supposed to be meeting a friend here." The youth explained, hoping that Savory wasn't going to be upset with him.

"Right through here, sir. Just go right on through." Rosa gestured to her left (Vanilla's right) to the open doorway beside her. Vanilla peered through, and saw what looked like a large open deck overlooking the river. Hanging candles gave off a welcoming glow, while tables were placed all around, some offering closer views of the river than others.

"Excuse me, sir?" Another voice called to Vanilla, a man dressed in a waiter's outfit. He bowed to the youth, all the while keeping a towel draped over one arm and never letting it slip. "Do you have a reservation?" The waiter asked, expectant.

"Actually, I'm here for a friend. Savory, of the Globetrotters." Vanilla explained, and the waiter lit up.

"Ah, you must be Vanilla. Ms. Savory is right over there." The man said, pointing to the farthest table, next to the handrail. Savory, dressed in a dark violet gown with black fleece, waved as she spotted the youth. "Please, follow me." And the waiter led Vanilla over to the table where Savory waited.

"Sorry, I hope you didn't wait long." Vanilla apologized as he was seated by the waiter, who pulled his chair out for him.

"Oh no, that's alright. I actually just got here, myself. After I got our reservations, I had to run some errands." The woman explained with a polite laugh as Vanilla settled into his seat. The waiter than produced a menu.

"May I take your order?" He inquired, opening the menu to display for the two guests. Savory's eyes quickly scanned through it, a gloved finger pointing to something on the list.

"I'll have this, with white wine, please." She stated firmly, the waiter nodding and quickly jotting down the order in a notepad. He then turned to Vanilla, offering him a better look at the menu, "And for the sir?"

"Hmm." Vanilla thought, taking a moment to think as he saw the staggering number of choices, some of which had names he could hardly understand. Deciding to go with something simple, he pointed to a beef stew.

"I'll have that, please." He finally said.

"And to drink?" The waiter asked as he added the order.

"Just some water, thank you." Vanilla replied, not really sure he could even afford whatever they had to drink. With a nod, the waiter turned and left to collect more orders, leaving the two alone.

"Did you have fun today?" Savory asked, cupping her hands together as she gazed directly into Vanilla's eyes. Admittedly, Vanilla couldn't help but find himself feeling a bit nervous by the woman's soft look.

"Y-yea, actually. I visited the bank, and bought this suit here." Vanilla answered with a slight stutter. Savory grinned, a chuckle resounding from her pursed lips.

"It looks quite fetching on you." She complimented, leaving the youth very red in the face.

"Thanks." Vanilla said, scratching his head.

"So, how was the trek across the desert like? I hear it's been rough lately." The woman inquired, waiting for an answer. Vanilla thought back to the events of the other day, and a flood of memories came back.

"It was pretty cool, a little scary, but cool." Vanilla began, trying to find a way to phrase everything. "I couldn't believe how vast it was, it was like a whole other world out there." He said, using his hands to gesture the enormity of the Sabbia. Savory listened intently, her sexy grin never once leaving her face.

"Sounds interesting." She said, keeping her eyes focused on Vanilla.

"Yea. We even had a run in with the bandits of that area, the Desert Hornets." Vanilla said, which made Savory quirk an eyebrow.

"I'm sure that must have been frightening." She said.

"Actually it wasn't so bad. Turns out they had me mistaken for someone else, and after we sorted things out, they even gave us an escort back to the oasis." Vanilla explained, feeling it wouldn't be right to talk about Connie's kidnapping until she herself was present. Savory seemed quite impressed, surprised by the boy's calm demeanor.

"Well it's important that no one got hurt." She mused just as the waiter returned with a cart carrying their orders. Vanilla was presented with a large bowl steaming to the brim with a stew that smelt heavenly, while Savory received an exotic looking dish that was hard to describe. They ate and continued to talk about little things, like the town, which Vanilla admitted he was starting to enjoy so far. They soon finished, and the waiters came and cleaned away the empty plates.

"So, how was the food?" Savory asked.

"It was really good, probably the best stew I've ever eaten!" Vanilla said emphatically, feeling stuffed. Savory smiled, "That's good to hear. The food is quite delicious here." She said.

"I heard from Marjoram that this place and the Station Hotel aren't on good terms, is that really true?" Vanilla asked, suddenly reminded of the rivalry. Savory nodded, a look on her face.

"Mm-hmm. It's actually a hot topic around here." She said, playing twirling a fork around a napkin.

"But why though? Is it because they're so close together or something?" Vanilla asked.

"No one knows for sure, but that is the popular theory." Savory explained with a distant tone, "I hear, there's supposedly a family feud." She leaned forward and whispered.

"A feud?" Vanilla's eyebrow quirked confusedly.

"Yea. Some say the original founders used to be friend, but then became bitter enemies when they opened their respective hotels. Ever since, their families have been keeping the feud ongoing. But, I hear that the daughter of this hotel, and the son of the Station, are secretly seeing each other." Savory explained, Vanilla listening to the gossip intently. Even still, it didn't add up, why were they like this to each other?

"But enough about that." Savory changed the subject and stood up, "Come on, let's talk by the river." She waved for Vanilla to follow. They walked over to the handrail, where they had a wonderful view of the river and the lights of the city nighttime.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Savory asked, leaning on the railing as she gazed out into the night. Vanilla silently agreed, amazed by the crystalline like reflection of the river mirroring the lights of the streetlamps and the glimmering buildings.

"Now that you're part of the group, I thought maybe I could ask you some questions." Savory turned, glancing over to Vanilla.

"Sure, shoot." The youth replied, smiling.

"Ok; maybe you can tell me what you think about the others. How about... Basil. What do you think about him?" The woman asked, patiently awaiting a response. Vanilla for a moment, thinking about how to respond to the inquiry.

"Basil? Well, from what I've seen, he's kind of like a little kid. But I think he means well." The youth said, having difficulty in expressing a proper answer. Savory laughed, nodding as she listened.

"I guess you could put it that way. He is a bit naïve, but I think it's kinda cute. He has always been the youngest in the group, but probably has the biggest heart." Savory giggled, Vanilla joining her as they shared a chuckle. "How about Marjoram?"

"Well, he's definitely seems reliable. Like you could depend on him for anything." Vanilla replied, finding it a bit easier to answer this question.

"He is!" Savory said enthusiastically, "If it weren't for him, we'd probably be a mess." She added with a giggle. "He does everything; finding and setting up gigs, dealing with publicity, and he handles all the money."

"Wow, I'm surprised he can stay so cheerful despite all that stress." Vanilla mused.

"I know, of course he did come from a large family, so I guess having lots of siblings to look after gave him plenty of experience." Savory explained with another chuckle. "Alright, now Fennel, the guy you met back at the Station Hotel."

"Fennel, is a pretty cool guy." Vanilla said, thoughtfully. "He's definitely more levelheaded than he looks." He added.

"Can you believe some people actually try to emulate his style?" Savory asked with a giggle, and Vanilla made a bemused face as he imagine a crowd of Fennel lookalikes.

"Heheheheh, that's weird." He finally said as he regained his composure. "Anyway, I do like his free spirit, and I can only hope he finds success with his new music." Vanilla said.

"Me too. I'm gonna miss him though, he was one of the first to join the group way back in the day." Savory stated, staring out across the river. "What about Connie? You must have something to say about her after spending so much time together." Savory asked, her tone hinting at something that made Vanilla feel a little hot under the collar.

"Um, Connie? She's... uh... well..." The youth stammered, his throat feeling like it was tightening up. "She's very nice, very kind." He managed to work out the words, not very easily.

"And?" Savory pressed, her knowing grin returning.

"She's been really nice to me, and I'm thankful for that." Vanilla added, nervousness growing as he felt part of himself wanting to express how he _really_ felt.

"She does have a kind heart, doesn't she?" Savory asked, cupping her chin with both hands as she turned to look at Vanilla.

"Y-yea, she does." He answered, "And... her voice is beautiful." Savory's smile only seemed to get bigger.

"That's the daughter of Rosemary for you." She said, giggling softly at the boy's floundering look. "Well, I can see you really have taken a shining to her." Savory stated, giggling as she saw Vanilla look at her with surprise.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." She said with a wink. "Now finally, what do you think about me?" She leaned inward, making she was nice and close to here the youth's answer.

"Well, I... uh. Think you're very pretty." Vanilla began, having a little less trouble answering, but still not finding it easy.

"Thank you."

"And smart."

"Hmm. Go on."

"And well, I think you're pretty cool." Vanilla said, turning away to catch his breath.

"'Pretty cool', huh? Well that's very sweet." Savory said with a mock sarcasm. "Thanks for the chat, I hoped you learned something."

"Oh, I did." Vanilla said, regaining his composure. Suddenly, an exclaiming was heard coming from the restaurant entrance.

"Sir John? Are you leaving so soon?" A voice said, and Vanilla and Savory both turned to see a man speaking to another. One had thinning gray hair, and wore greenish looking suit.

"Is that, Sir John?" Savory murmured, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Who's he?" Vanilla asked, noticing something strangely familiar, as though he had seen the man's face somewhere. A picture perhaps?

"He's the director of St. Johns Ward Hospital, and he's the father of Mallow." Savory stated, surprising Vanilla.

"Really?" He asked quietly, amazed by this stroke of luck. Maybe he could give him some much needed answers. However, before the youth could act, the man known as John shook hands with the other and departed. Savory turned to Vanilla, noting the anxious look on his face.

"I guess you should try and talk to him. If you really did know Mallow, he might know something about the pendent and everything. And he is a doctor, after all. Maybe he can help you with your amnesia." She said, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Definitely." Vanilla nodded, having no doubt of his next course of action.

"Well, it's getting pretty late. I think we should call it a night." Savory said, yawning and stretching her arms out. "You can try talking to him tomorrow, he should be at the hospital." And Vanilla nodded, deciding it'd be best to approach the man when he wasn't overexcited.

"I'll go on ahead. Good night." Savory said, and left the hotel, leaving Vanilla to stare out towards the river.

"Maybe I'll finally figure out something..." He thought, clutching the pendent tightly as he looked up to the night sky.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Really sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Between the craziness that forced me to come back home earlier than expected, and my general laziness (yea, I'm a bum :P). But I will definitely try to get chapter 10 out quicker. I'll admit the ending is a little rushed, but I just wanted to finally get this darn thing finished. And I'm sure I probably flubbed it on the timetable, but then again it is hard to really keep track of time inside a story, and I wasn't sure if adding a timer/clock would fit in well. Oh well, if anyone really thinks something needs to be changed, just tell me in the review (but please be descriptive, it's helpful to have more in-depth hints than just little hints).

Some little things: I'm sure those of you who are really familiar with the game will notice I didn't do too much with the Hotel lovers side-quest. Well, I really didn't know how else to play into the story, given how long and complex it is. To fully do it justice, I'd have to either find a point in the story to dedicate time and focus to it, or drastically modify it for convenience. But, I'm sure some will at least enjoy the nod I made it by having some exposition on the rivalry and even having Rosa from the Riverside appear and be named. If I can, I may include Algernon at a later point, but no promises.

Anyway, thanks for the patience and continued readings. It's good to know the story doesn't lose traffic when it goes cold like this, hehehe.


	10. Session 10

STEAMBOT CHRONICES

Been a bit longer than I would have liked, but I'll admit that I wasn't feeling immediately into writing a new chapter just yet, not to mention I have been hitting a bit of a lazy slump, heheheh. Anyway, chapter 10! To think, it's been one whole year now since I started. While I wish I could get more reviews so I could find out what everyone who reads this thinks, I'm still quite pleased with the current number so far, and can only hope it'll be much higher near the end. Well, strap in, it's time for some rocking action, and light to be shed on a few mysteries.

_Chapter 10_ ~ _Revolution 9_

Vanilla awoke early, having barely slept as his restless mind fixated on finally getting some answers to how he and _Mallow_ were connected. Marjoram was kind enough to provide a rough idea of the work schedule at the Hospital, suggesting that Vanilla try and find Sir John early before noon. Which would be just perfect, as Vanilla had received a message from Fennel asking him to drop by the Station Hotel around 1 O'clock about the music discussion from yesterday. Luckily, St. John's Ward was right around the corner from the Lobster inn, right next to the police station.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" A nurse sitting behind a high counter said as she glanced up to see Vanilla enter the main lobby, a hardwood floor room with several chairs for possible patients and visitors.

"I was looking for Sir John, is he in?" Vanilla asked, hopeful for a positive response.

"Yes, he signed in about an hour."

"Is there any way I could see him, like right now? It's very urgent." Vanilla did his best to contain his urgency, rushing things would not bode well.

"I guess so. He's on the third floor, far right office. Though he might turn you away. You see, he hasn't been feeling well lately." The nurse explained, then gestured to the stairs left of the front desk. Thanking her, Vanilla made his way up. The air had a very stingy smell, likely the medicines and sterilizing agents used to keep things clean and germ free. As he reached the right floor, he nearly bumped into a man wearing a white lab coat.

"Oh, my apologies." Vanilla said, holding his hands defensively , the man in the coat appeared to not even be fazed, and instead just contining on down the stairs without a word.

"Huh, weird..." Vanilla thought, then shrugged and made his way down the hall. There were at least four rooms on this floor, two on both sides of the long hall. The first right one was simply a patient ward, while the first left was an examination room. He passed those by and arrived at a door with a large plaque that read: **Sir John, M.D.**

"This is it..." Vanilla felt nervous, unsure of how to approach the situation. For once he might be meeting someone would who know something about him, or least the Mallow character everyone had been mistaking him for. With a final, drawn out breath, Vanilla opened the door.

Inside, Sir John was pacing in front of his desk, looking downright beside himself with worry. His tie was askew and his hair looked wrangled, while his face appeared to have lost vitality and color. His desk was a mess of papers and letters, making it stand out within the otherwise clean and neat office.

"Mallow... Where have you gone?" A sullen voice croaked from the doctor, his eyes looking heavy and tired. He then noticed Vanilla, nearly jumping at the unexpected sight.

"Excuse me! Is there something you need?" He began, hastily straightening his tie and brushing his hair into a more acceptable look. "If you're in need of medical attention, I would ask that you seek it from one of the other doctors."

"Actually... sir. I'm here about Mallow." Vanilla said, deciding to not hold back or hesitate, he wanted answers no matter what. Sir John's eyes practically lit up, and and he closed the gap between him and Vanilla with a few quick steps, grasping the youth by the shoulders.

"Mallow? My Mallow?" You know where he is?" The man asked, looking hopeful.

"Uh... not exactly." Vanilla stammered, which made John frown, then puzzled. "What do you mean? Is he ok or not?" He asked, then froze as he noticed the pendant. John's eyes lit up and he snatched the necklace away and looked it over.

"This... this is the same pendant I gave to Mallow..." John murmured, then turned to Vanilla with a narrow glare. "How in the hell did you come to possess this?" He loomed over the teen, looking half-ready to pounce Vanilla.

"I think he, I mean Mallow gave it to me. That's all I know..." Vanilla stammered, trying to remember that vague memory of the pendant. Sir John furrowed his brow, his anger being replaced by curiosity. He then cleared his throat, allowing his mind to clear.

"Please, take a seat." The doctor said, motioning for Vanilla to sit on one of the two couches in the center of the room, a coffee table positioned between them. They each sat on one, facing one another.

"I must apologize for my outburst. It's just that I was surprised to see you wearing _this_." Sir John explained, looking down at the pendent he held in his hands. "You see, this was a gift I bought for Mallow when he was a child... Seeing it after so long..." John abruptly ended his sentence, looking fondly at the necklace. After a brief period of silence, he once more looked over to Vanilla.

"Tell me, how is it that you came to know my son?" Sir John inquired, his tone now more calm and collected.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that I must have been friends with him. You see, I was found on Seagull beach about two weeks ago with amnesia." This came as a surprise to Sir John, who then nodded, silently beginning to piece together Vanilla's earlier responses. For the next several moments, Vanilla explained his situation, how he was found, his arrival in Nefroburg, and almost every detail from there on. Finally, it all came back to the pendant, which Sir John clasped tightly in his hands all throughout.

"I See, and you came to me hoping you might find something out about Mallow." The physician stated, standing up and strolling over to the window that overlooked the street between the hospital and the GTW factory. "However, I'm afraid we're both at a loss when it concerns his possible whereabouts. Also, I'm afraid that I can't do anything about your amnesia, as Dr. Nutmeg explained, you'll have to wait for something to trigger your memories."

"I understand." Vanilla started, having already figured that there was nothing that could done about his memory. "But maybe if you told me about Mallow, that might help."

"Hmm, perhaps." Sir John said thoughtfully, then agreed as he returned to the couch and sat down. "You see, five years ago, there was an incident..." The man tried to continue, but was stopped by a flood of memories that wore heavily on him.

"What incident?" Vanilla pressed, curious.

"N-nothing... Just a stupid accident, something that I wish had never happened..." Sir John stammered, fixing his tie as he cleared his throat. "Anyway, soon after, I sent Mallow overseas to study abroad with a friend of mine and his family for a few years. Everything seemed to be going well, he wrote often, and had constantly mentioned a friend he had made." Vanilla once more felt that familiar tingle and a flash of a city, not Happy Garland, appeared in his mind. And there was Mallow, the boy from his other visions. But he knew there was more...

"I think that was me." Vanilla said, the memory fading away like the others did before. Sir John cupped his chin, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Oh really? Well then, I should thank you for your kindness towards Mallow." He half-smiled, "You see, Mallow had a rough childhood growing up. Shortly after his mother, my dear wife, passed away from a grave illness, I was assigned a seat on the city council. During those times, there was great civil unrest between the wealthy and the less fortunate, so much so that a lot of my time was greatly spent carrying out my duties. And I fear without my influence, Mallow became disillusioned, seeing the poor as 'below' him. Then, five years ago, he made a terrible mistake..."

"What was it?" Vanilla asked, this was the second time Sir John had mentioned an "incident".

"He, Mallow I mean... accidentally caused another boy's death." This came as a shock to Vanilla, who felt his blood run cold as the truth sank in. Mallow... killed someone?

"It was right outside the Garland Station, he was bullying another boy, whom he had been picking on for quite some time. They were fighting over the boy's backpack, when it fell into the street..." Sir John went silent, the terrible memory once again taking his voice, "When the boy went to retrieve it, he was struck by a passing car, its driver unable to react in time..."

Vanilla was silent, unable to say anything as the words sunk in. Sir John could see the minute thoughts that passed through the youth's eyes, understanding his mixed feelings.

"Please, understand that Mallow was just as mortified with himself as anyone, we all felt terrible about it. I think that's why it took Mallow so long to finally gather the courage to return home, he wanted to finally face his demons and make amends." Sir John explained, then produced a letter from his breast pocket. "This arrived last month, explaining that he would be arriving on a ship called the S.S Juniper Berry. However, when the date of arrival came, there was no reports of the ship ever docking in Neuhafen. I feared the worst..." John said, looking grim. Vanilla then remembered the ship from Seagull beach, it's broken hull crashed against the rocks, the name flashing in his memory **S.S Juniper Berry**.

"That was the ship on the beach!" Vanilla realized, his memories stickily piecing together the other vague visions of Mallow and that woman, the captain maybe?

"That was the ship you were on?" Sir John stuttered with shock, leaning forward as he eagerly hurried for Vanilla to continue. "Tell me, did you see anyone else there?"

"No. Sorry, but when I came to, there was no one near the ship. I can only guess they must have swam away after the attack while I drifted to the beach." Vanilla explained, remembering the destruction near the shore. He was certain that there was no one else on the beach beside him, Connie, and the mysterious trotmobile rider on the clifftop.

"I understand, please don't strain yourself as that won't help either of our situations." Sir John nodded, seeing how fruitless it was to try and press for further details given Vanilla's condition. He then turned back to the window, cupping his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry that I wasn't much help concerning your amnesia, but I wouldn't say this was entirely pointless. Mallow obviously had good reason to trust you with his pendant, I know he wouldn't part with it no matter what. And after speaking with you, I'm more than confident that Mallow is still alive, somewhere."

"I think so, too." Vanilla added, a nagging feeling telling just so. Sir John grinned, glad for the encouragement. "Please, if you by some chance manage to find a clue to Mallow's whereabouts, do inform me?"

"Of course!" Vanilla answered without delay.

"Most excellent. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I should get back to work. Take care, Vanilla." Sir John said as he motioned for Vanilla to leave, then closed the door to his office. Vanilla had thought about mentioning the possibility of the Bloody Mantis being after Mallow, but decided against it.

"He's already worried enough, I can't put him through that." Vanilla thought out loud, then turned to see a cuckoo clock, the hands slowly pointing to 1.

"Shoot! I'm gonna be late!" He slapped his forehead and darted off.

#

"There you are, cutting it a bit close, eh kid?" Fennel's ever easy-going tone drifted through the ballroom as Vanilla arrived at the station hotel at five past 1 O'clock. The blonde tried to mumble something, but was too out of breath to utter an audible word.

"It's alright, you're here anyway." The suave looking guitarist said, waving dismissively with his hand. He then gestured for Vanilla to sit, straightening up in his own seat as well.

"Right, so let me lay it out for you; I've had this idea about how I can change the way people look at music. And I don't just mean write a bunch of new songs or nothing, I mean really make people _hear_ music in a whole new way!" Fennel started off, his excitement growing as he began to relay his grand 'plan' to Vanilla.

"So you're going to try and create a new instrument, is that it?" Vanilla asked, earning a chuckle from the former Globetrotter.

"Not quite, no. I'm not really the inventive type, unfortunately. But I do have this wild idea. You've seen those trolleys out in the streets, the ones powered by electricity?"

"Mm hmm, yea." Vanilla nodded.

"Well, imagine if you could take that power, and use it to create music." Fennel said, leaning back and pausing to let the idea sink in. Vanilla had to admit, it sounded interesting.

"But how would you do that?" Vanilla had to ask.

"That, I don't know..." Fennel chuckled again, crossing one leg over the over as he took on a more contemplative look, "I was gonna ask Dr. Nutmeg before the group and I left Nefroburg, but something tells me the old man probably wouldn't have been much help. Luckily, a friend of mine, George, who works at the Garland Motors near the GTW factory said he's been looking into a way to harness electricity with an instrument, but I've haven't heard from him for quite a while." Fennel explained.

"So you want to go and see what he's up to." Vanilla responded.

"Exactly. I'd go myself, but now that I'm officially leaving the Globetrotters, Marjoram wants to talk about a farewell gig. Besides, I know I can trust you to help out, there might even be a spot for you when me and the boys make our premiere performance." Fennel said, adding pizzazz to his voice as he made the offer. Vanilla was definitely enticed, he really wanted to see this "new kind of instrument".

"Then it's settled, see if you can help out George. Trust me, before you know it, you're gonna be hearing the true _Revolution_ of the musical era!" Fennel stood up, making a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. His two bandmates, Franklin and Benjamin clapped enthusiastically as their leader finished his little speech. Later, Vanilla was making his way back across the river towards the GTW factory, where the tall garage stood at the corner next to the first line of housing apartments.

"Hello?" Vanilla peeked his head into the garage, where two mechanics in grease stained jumpsuits were replacing the arm frame of a trotmobile on the lift platform. Upon hearing the youth's voice, one of the mechanics, a rather bookish looking young woman with curly brown hair and strange glasses with weird spirally designs looked over.

"Yea, can I help you?" She asked as she used a dirtied cloth to wipe some sweat and oil from her forehead.

"I was asked to look for a guy named George, is he here?" Vanilla asked, the woman nodding and jerking a thumb over her shoulder towards a set of stairs that led up.

"Yep, just go up those stairs, he's in the workshop. Mind you, the guy gets a little cranky when he's distracted from his work. Is that it?" The female auto mechanic asked, browsing though a toolbox and taking out a wrench.

"Yea, I'm good. Thanks!" Vanilla said, then headed up the stairs, passing over a catwalk that overlooked the ground floor of the garage and connecting to a workshop area with shelves of parts and a table covered with blueprints and over scribbled drawings of complex plans. There, a thinnish looking man in a blue shirt with the top of his jumpsuit undone and tied into a knot stood over the table, deep in thought as he looked over the various scrolls of paper.

"Excuse me?" Vanilla calmly called out, trying to not be loud. The man slammed an open palm onto the table and looked up, looking peeved.

"Yes, what is it? If you need a tune up, then you can go back downstairs, I'm busy." The man, George, grumbled before mumbling something under his breath and then using a pencil to jot down several notes in the corner of an already detailed looking blueprint.

"Um, actually I'm here because Fennel sent me." Vanilla said, George looking up with a less severe glare at the sound of the name.

"Oh, Fennel? Yea, what about him?" The mechanic asked, his tone dropping all hints of annoyance instantly.

"He wanted me to ask you about an instrument that could use electricity."

"Ah, that. I had almost forgotten about that little project. Yea, I've been researching into the concept." George answered, turning away and perusing a shelf that was brimming with rolled up pieces of paper. He pulled out one and unfurled it, revealing a strange collection of sketches that detailed various instruments with bizarre electrical attachments. Drum sets built made from a car battery, and even a trumpet with a gas tank. Several of these had been "X"ed out or scribbled over in agitation.

"I think I finally got the right idea. You see, I was thinking about it all wrong, you can't just jam an engine into an instrument and make it work. You gotta find a way to have the electrical parts play a part in creating the sound, like enhancing it or making it sound different." George began to explain, pointing to some of the half erased concepts, finally coming to what appeared to be a guitar of sorts, "Then I realized, the guitar is perfect for this kind of thing, add a little 'oomph' to it, and you've got a whole new kind of guitar!"

"Looks like it's missing something though." Vanilla chimed in, pointing to the sketch guitar, which had arrows pointing at different angles.

"Ah, yea. I figured out how to have it connect to an outlet and draw power with an engine, but I can't figure out how to get it to then channel that power throughout the guitar itself." George said.

"Wouldn't a generator work?"

"Kid, trust me, if generators were that small, then this thing would be in the bag, but unfortunately the smallest generator is about the same size as a car battery, you'd be making the thing way too heavy to be even held up when it's being used. But... now that you mention it, maybe if I could pull apart a spare mini-generator, I could somehow refit it's basic components to work in a smaller capacity..." The mechanic began to think aloud, obviously becoming lost in his own thoughts once more as he picked up the pencil and began jotting down numbers and calculations along with little doodles.

"I think you're onto something, kid. Granted, this is gonna take me a few weeks at most before I can present solid results. But you can tell Fennel that his 'revolutionary instrument' is gonna be made a reality, very soon." George then turned away, digging through a box of discarded parts and junk metal, ignoring Vanilla completely now.

Shrugging, the blonde left the garage, the rest of his day free to pursue as he saw fit. He figured now was as good as any time to check out the arena, if he wanted to protect Connie, he would need to hone his skills. Returning to Lobster Inn, he got into the Earl and made his way over to the arena. He came to the trotmobile entrance, a tall sliding door located near the side of the building on the street that forked towards the Neuhafen exit and way back towards the GTW factory.

Inside, Vanilla was astonished by the lavish layout of the arena lobby, which was at least twice as large as the one back in Nefroburg. Red carpeting was displayed across a shining linoleum floor, while elegantly sculptured pillars supported the overlooking balcony that connected to the maintenance area, where Vanilla entered into from a path that rounded around the station and next to the lift for the arena transport.

"Welcome, sir. Are you here to enter today's matches?" A mechanic standing by the lift addressed Vanilla as he parked the Earl near a stationary cone and got out.

"Yea, do I need to sign up or anything like that?" The youth answered as he clambered down from the Earl.

"Not if you already have a battle license. Though you will need to check with the front counter so they know you wish to participate." The mechanic answered, pointing to a small flight of steps that led down to a landing that connected the entrance for the spectator stands and another set of steps that led to the lobby floor.

"Thanks." Vanilla said before handing some UR to the mechanic to do a check-up of the Earl as he headed for the lobby. As he descended the first set of stairs, he saw four massive portraits, each capturing the moment of battle of previous arena tournaments past, while on the ground floor there was a line of displays of several strange looking trotmobiles, and in the center was fierce looking model of pure white.

"Greetings, and welcome to the Garland City Arena." A female attendant dressed in a green and gold outfit said, bowing as Vanilla stepped onto the ground floor.

"Wow, this place is huge." Vanilla remarked just amazed at the size and décor of the lobby alone. He could only wonder what the arena cage itself looked like.

"Well we are the largest establishment in the country, sir. Over twenty years of providing top quality battles premiering some of the best gladiators known." The woman said with a warm smile, stepping up to the white trot in the center, "And here is a replica of the "Requiem_"_, the trotmobile of the mysterious _Elder_."

"Elder?" The youth asked, puzzled.

"He's the **S** ranked champion of Happy Garland, also known as the _White Phantom_. He rarely shows up, and only then fights exclusively at night time." The woman explained, gesturing to the fearsome statue of the Requiem, which stood at roughly the same height as the Earl. "His signature arm frames are a long-ranged cannon and the Excalibur, said to be a one of a kind sword frame and the sharpest ever forged. His piloting skills have leaded to victory in the _UTC_, four years in a row."

"UTC?"

"It stands for _Ultimate Trotmobile Championship_. It's an annual event held here in Garland city once every year to determine who is the strongest trotmobile pilot in the country. Some of the best fighters come from all over the country to compete. If you're interested, the tournament will be held next month. The grand prize is 10,000 UR, and if you're able to beat the Grand Champion, an immediate promotion to **S** rank!" The woman finished.

"Wow, that's a lot of money." Vanilla thought, of course, he'd never stand a chance against the country's best at his current level. Of course, that's why he was there in the first place, to get better. Heading for the front desk, another female receptionist greeted him.

"Hello, are you here to battle or wager?" The woman asked in a polite and formal tone, obviously having repeated this question numerous times.

"Battle." The youth asked as he retrieved the license he got from Dino. The woman looked it over while nodding, "Ah, excellent! It just so happens we're having a 3-for-all. Three combatants enter, and whomever emerges victorious earns an 800 UR cash prize, and will be promoted up a rank. And as it turns out, we're in need of a third fighter for the battle this afternoon, are you interested?" The receptionist asked.

"Sure! I'm ready for anything!" Vanilla said excitedly, deciding to plunge into the fray headlong. It definitely sounded like a fun opportunity.

#

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" A booming voice crackled over the intercom speakers that lined the large auditorium. Stands encircled the outer perimeter of the heavily fenced off arena, where rocks, steel beams, and junked vehicles were lain strewn about. Four hatches could seen, their heavy iron doors sealed tight.

"Today we have a special Three-for-all battle! Watch as three gladiators go toe-to-toe for glory and fame. And here come our combatants now!" The announcer, a man in his late twenties was rousing the crowd as three of the hatches parted, and three distinct figures appeared.

"In the south corner, we have the C-rank "Bodyguard", Sudou, and the mysterious **Nameless**!" And the crowd cheered and whistled as a small looking trotmobile with a dark green paint job appeared. The body was a **Small Body** type (primarily used for single riders) stood on a pair of **Bird Legs S** (thin armored frame legs designed for smaller trots) while a blade arm was attached to the right and an ordinary arm frame for the left. The pilot was a strange looking man in a dark brown buttoned coat and narrow hat that hid his sharp face.

"To the east, D-rank heavyweight, "Strong Arm" Sampson. And his mighty **Giant Sam**!" Several women could be heard squealing with glee as a muscular looking man appeared, riding inside a behemoth of a trotmobile. The body was a light green **Normal Body L** type (the same kind that the Earl now used) with Caterpillar tread leg frames (much like a tank). A streamlined right arm designed for heavy lifting connected to the right joint while the left sported a fearsome looking buzz-saw frame (a favorite of lumberjacks). The pilot, Sampson cupped his thick hands as he greeted his adoring fans.

"And in the west corner, a D-rank newcomer, Vanilla! Piloting an unnamed Earl Grey II model. A connoisseur for classics if I may say." The announcer said as Vanilla appeared opposite of Sampson. The blonde could feel his heart beat as the massive crowd greeted him with mixed reactions of curious wonder and disinterested jeers. His opponents shared a look, Sudou an unreadable, solemn expression. And Sampson, a cocky grin of self-assured victory over his "weak" foes.

"Get ready folks, this is gonna be a fight for the ages. Two veterans of the arena versus a complete newbie. AND FIGHT!" The announcer cried as the card girl, a curvaceous brunette in a bunny girl outfit passed through arena and quickly into the safe-zone near the southeast corner. A gunshot loudly went off not a second later, and the three trotmobiles launched into action.

"Sampson has already set his sights on the newcomer! Will the lumbering Sam smash the competition?" The announcer spoke as the tank like trotmobile made a beeline for Vanilla. The youth quickly dashed back, snatching an I-beam off the floor as he went on the defensive. The buzz-saw swung heavily through the air, the whirling blade just narrowly missing the Earl's chest by a thin margin.

"Come on, I'll cut that relic you call a trot to ribbons!" Sampson boasted as he took another swing with his buzz-saw, Vanilla once more narrowly avoiding the dangerous weapon as he tried to keep both Sampson and Sudou in his line of sight, the latter carefully zigzagging slowly towards the two like an approaching shark. Just as the Giant Sam missed another swing, Vanilla dove forward, hurling the steel beam. The hunk of metal collided with the buzz-saw, the sharp teeth of the spinning blade sinking and tearing into it with a screeching grind. Sparks spat and flew as the thick metal was cut and began to twist around the blade, finally stalling it.

"Amazing, the newcomer has disabled Giant Sam's saw arm. Looks like Sampson is gonna have to use the good fashioned fisticuffs for this fight!" The announcer blared. As Sampson fumed and thrashed about, Vanilla dashed away to clear some room, only to be sidelined by Sudou who smashed into him from behind. Swerving around, Vanilla flinched as the curved blade of Sudou's right arm slashed across the Earl's left shoulder and diagonally across the chest plate.

"And Sudou deals a serious blow to Vanilla's Earl! Can he even still use the left arm?" The announcer's bravado for exaggerated tension was keeping the crowd in suspense as Vanilla used the shield arm (which grinded loudly from the tearing damage) and swatted back at Sudou, who nimbly avoided the swing and madly dashed away. Vanilla then head a rumbling and turned to see Sampson hoisting a broken down bus over his head.

Seizing this brief opening, Vanilla charged forward, brandishing his sword which extended from the slot on the arm and slashed at the Giant Sam's treads. The metal belts broke and the lumbering giant of a trotmobile stopped dead in its tracks.

"Oh! And it looks like Vanilla has once again dealt a serious blow to Sampson!" Several members of the crowd booed, while others cheered on the startling newcomer. Sampson was growling and pounding the dashboard of his trot, cursing wildly. Vanilla turned away and caught sight of Sudou as the smaller trotmobile rider skirted along the edge of the cage, trying to maneuver around his two warring opponents.

"Wait for it..." Vanilla cautiously thought to himself, keeping a steady hand on the shift. He knew that if he panicked, Sudou would easily carve the Earl to shreds. And he could see that Sampson was making marginal success in pivoting in place despite the loss of his treads. This just might work...

"What's this? Vanilla is just standing there. Sampson is slowly getting him back in sight and Sudou is closing in for what will surely be a devastating attack. Has the arena's newest addition lost his nerve?"

NOW! Vanilla shouted inwardly just as Sudou drew back his sword and Sampson prepared to throw the bus. It was just by a sheer luck that Vanilla hit the gas and dove back as Sudou swooped directly onto the spot he had just occupied, and was struck by the falling bus and sent careening back into a stack of beams while Sampson lost balance and fell over, the broken treads tangling into the exposed gears and wheels.

Silence fell over the crowd as they soaked in the last few climatic moments of the battle. Then the arena erupted into a symphony of cheers as cameras flashed and chants of Vanilla's name slowly built up.

"Amazing! Both Sampson and Sudou have been defeated! This is remarkable, a nobody has toppled two titans of the arena in his first fight. Everyone, give it up for today's newest hero, VANILLA!" And the roar of the crowd rose even amazingly even higher. In seconds, Vanilla was being escorted by the bunny girl to the center of the arena and bowing before the still wild audience.

#

"And here you are, 800 UR as promised!" The receptionist chirped as she handed Vanilla an envelope containing the prize money, "And we've just upgraded your battle license, now you're a **C-Rank** gladiator." She added, attaching a small shield shaped badge with a **C** on it and three stars above it. "Now you can challenge anyone with a **B-rank** or lower. And if you complete another special event, you'll be promoted to the next rank. Have a nice day, sir!" Vanilla thanked the woman and then turned to leave, quietly stifling a yawn as he felt fatigue overcome him. He had lost track of the time, and judging by the hungry growl from his stomach, had probably already missed lunch some time ago. He was climbing the stairs back to the parking area when he noticed a figure standing at the top of the landing ahead of him.

"That was quite an impressive fight." A calm, almost cold voice said. Vanilla looked up to see a man, dressed in a white suit and wearing an elegant looking mask. A familiar looking mask...

"Wait a minute. I saw you at the station back in Nefroburg." Vanilla said as he remembered the brief encounter long ago.

"Ah yes, we did run into each other there, didn't we?" The masked man grinned wryly, then cleared his throat and gave a small bow, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Elder." Vanilla's eyes widened with surprise.

"You're the famous trotmobile pilot they've been talking about here." Vanilla began, unable to believe his luck at meeting a famous pilot like this. Elder seemed to ignore the comment, instead staring back at the youth at the steps below him.

"Mind if I ask you a question? Why do you use trotmobiles?" He asked, the calm tone of his voice almost chilling in it's directness. Vanilla raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Huh?... Well I... I don't know. It kind of happened, I had to use it to get out of a dangerous situation." The youth answered, feeling unsure of how to properly answer the question. Elder seemed to mull over the response for a moment, then spoke.

"Would you say that your trotmobile is reliable? Do you believe that it can help you achieve anything?" Elder asked once more, again leaving Vanilla uncertain.

"I guess... I guess it depends on whomever is riding it." He said, scratching his head. For a national champion, he certainly asked some weird questions.

"I see. I believe your right; a weapon can easily be used for good just as it can for evil." Elder said, turning away slightly and looking out into the lobby below. "Would you say that in the right hands, trotmobiles could improve life as we know?"

"Sure, I mean, I would think so." Vanilla responded.

"For your sake, I hope you're right." And with that, the strange masked man briskly walked off, passing the youth without even another glance.

"Strange... Why do his eyes feel, so cold?"

#

"Hey, Vanilla!" Connie warmly greeted the youth as he arrived at the inn. The brunette sat at an empty table, carefully tuning her guitar strings. Basil was putting his bass violin away, while both Savory and Marjoram were absent.

"You missed a good show today. We held a small concert about an hour ago." Basil said as he clipped the locks on the case and headed over to the table that Vanilla had sat at beside Connie.

"Oh, yea. I was at the arena." Vanilla said, flashing his newly updated license.

"Hmm, we heard. Some people were talking about your fight at the arena after our concert. They said you beat two gladiators at once!" Connie said, sounding quite impressed.

"Yea, I even won a ton of cash." Vanilla said, showing the envelope with the prize money.

"Wow, that's a lot of UR. Got any plans for it?" She asked. It was an innocent enough question, yet Vanilla could feel a slight burning in his cheeks as he thought about just exactly what to use the money for. That dress he saw yesterday. "Um, no, not yet." He stammered, then muttered something about being hungry. The trio continued to talk as they ordered dinner, Vanilla eventually asking about Marjoram and Savory.

"Marjoram said he had to run a few errands for his mother. She owns the grocery right next to the inn, ya know." Basil explained, then added that he and Connie didn't know what Savory was up to, just that she would be gone for most of the evening. As they were finishing, Marjoram entered, taking off a flannel jacket and hanging on a coat rack by the door.

"Phew, I'm beat." He said, exhausted.

"How's everyone doing?" Connie asked, referring to Marjoram's family.

"They're good. Mom said that the twins ought to be starting school very soon." The portly sax player said as he took a seat at the table. "By the way, I got a message from the station master. He said that concert will held at 11 in the morning, since they need to have the square cleared before 1 so the police that are investigating the Quail tunnel won't be obstructed." He explained, everyone nodding their understanding.

"I'll let Savory know when she get back tonight." Connie said, standing up to stretch her legs.

"Good idea." Marjoram yawned, obviously quite tired from his day. Vanilla could relate, between learning quite a bit about Mallow, some kind of super guitar, and fighting in the arena, he was beat. While Connie left for her room, Marjoram took Vanilla aside and had him look over the sheet music for the songs they were to play tomorrow, wanting to be sure the youth had his parts down.

"Yea, just remember to enter on this note. It is a bit tricky." The pseudo-manager of the Globetrotters said, Vanilla nodding.

"Ok. By the way, I was wondering. How often do you guys write new songs?" Vanilla asked, having been wondering this quite a while.

"Actually, Dandelion, our former leader still writes the music for us. Connie then comes up with the lyrics. But now that you mention it, I'd imagine Dandelion's got a new song ready. I'll have to remember to check with him in a few days." Marjoram said while Vanilla looked over the current music sheet and memorized his parts. After he was sure he had it all memorized, Vanilla decided to turn in the for the night. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, that was for sure.

#

The sun was shining brightly on the station square, where a large crowd numbering in the hundreds had gathered for the concert that was to start shortly.

"Welcome, thanks for coming!" Connie waved and greeted the crowd from atop the stage comprised of the Globetrotter's own trotmobiles. Vanilla was amazed at how the stage arm Dr. Nutmeg had given him joined perfectly with the others to form the platform they now occupied. "Before we begin, we have an announcement to make." Connie continued, the crowd gradually hushing so they could hear the news. Connie then motioned for Fennel, who sitting next to Marjoram's drum set, the slick guitarist standing up.

"Thanks, Connie. Listen up, everybody." Fennel began as Connie stepped back to let him take the center stage. "Today, I'm announcing my official departure from the Garland Globetrotters and the formation of my own group, _Fennel and the Blue Lightning_." Almost immediately the crowd rose with cries of unrest and disappointment, largely from the female members. "Now now, no need to get upset. I still have one more gig with the Globetrotters in the near future, and I certainly won't deny the possibility of joint venues." Fennel tried to ease the crowd with his calm and collected demeanor, which mostly seemed to work, though the faces of many disappointed fans could be seen

"Now please a warm welcome to a friend of mine, the guy who'll be taking my place. Give it up, for Vanilla!" And the guitarist side-stepped as he gestured to the youth, who was caught off guard by the sudden spotlight of attention.

"Him? But he looks like a total nobody."

"I don't know, what kind of instrument does he play?"

"Wait a second, ain't he the guy who was fightin' in the arena yesterday?"

"They're replacing Fennel with this guy?"

"Actually, he is kinda cute..."

Vanilla was bashfully scratching his head, not sure how to greet the audience, especially as they continued to murmur amongst themselves. Fennel then placed a hand on his shoulder, flashing his trademark sly grin.

"Don't fret over it, kid. They'll warm up to you in no time." He said, then waved to the crowd as he hopped off the stage and joined his crew near the station steps. Connie then took center once more and managed to ease the crowd into silence.

"Thank you. Now let's begin!" Connie grinned, her bright smile melting the ice that had almost taken the hearts of the crowd. Marjoram, holding his saxophone, whispered a quick countdown from 3, then motioned for everyone to begin playing _Impossible_.

_ Where do I, fit in the picture of your world? _

Savory began to softly stroke the keys of the piano, paying close attention to matching the tempo of Connie's voice.

_ When you're soaring so high. And I am left alone _

_ Here on the ground; I can't, even see you anymore _

Vanilla hummed alone inside his head, waiting for his time to join in. Looking out into the crowd, he could some of the closer audience members slowly swaying from side to side.

_ So high up there, like a bird. I wish I could fly to you _

Savory played a few bars on the 'like a bird'.

_ But where are my wings? You took them away from me _

Marjoram played along, adding the melancholy tune.

_ Never to give them back to me... _

_ You stole them from my back! You ripped them off _

Vanilla jumped in with a fast succession of bars. Basil's violin blending nicely as the two played into the chorus.

_ The scars will be right there! _

_ And I'll never be able to fly right to you _

_ Only 'cause I can't. And it is you _

_ Who made it... Impossible _

The somber melody of the piano played once more as Connie ended the chorus, the crowd simply mystified.

_ Where do I, find the courage to fly to you? _

_ You're the only one, who the power to take them away _

Vanilla pulled off a rather brilliant long bar, almost out of breath when he finished.

_ I feel so lost! My hope is coming to an end _

_ And the only thing I can... Do right now is wish _

_ For you to come back to me... _

_ But where did you go? _

_ You left and you took my wings with you _

Both Marjoram's saxophone and harmonica played, their dual melodies blending superbly.

_ Never to, look back to where I am! _

_ Ooh! I demand a reason why! _

Everyone chimed in at once, their instruments a mere extension of their soulful tune.

_ I really need something to justify _

_ The scars will be right there! _

_ And I'll never be able to fly right to you _

_ Only 'cause I can't. And it is you _

_ Who made it... _

Vanilla's finger played across the air hole of the harmonica like the dancing legs of a spider on the crescendo.

_ You stole them from my back! You ripped them off _

_ The scars will be right there! _

_ And I'll never be able to fly right to you _

Savory backed up Connie with a wordless alto, while Marjoram piped in on the sax.

_ Only 'cause I can't. And it is you... _

Vanilla and Basil eased off, while Marjoram and Savory continued to play along.

_ Who made it, Impossible... _

Marjoram finished the song with a 20 second solo from the sax, leaving the crowd in a quiet awe before bursting into claps, cheers, and whistles.

"That was great!" Connie said excitedly, overcome with joy at the success of their performance. "Everyone ready for the next song?" She asked, turning to look at everyone in turn. Marjoram laid the sax down and settled behind his drums, giving a thumbs up while Vanilla, Basil, and Savory each nodded their readiness.

"Alright. 1! 2! 3!" Connie chimed, raising her hand to make the countdown.

_In Your Voice_ started with the melodic strumming of the guitar. Vanilla's harmonica adding a whimsical and lighthearted mood to the intro. As Vanilla eased off, Savory took his place and continued along with the piano.

_ When you're done and low. Try looking at the sun _

_ Keep your head high and everything is all right _

_ When you're lost and confused, you might be able to _

Basil's hands gently strummed the bass violin, meshing well with the piano chords.

_ Find the answers that you want above the clouds _

_ When you're sad and blue _

Savory briefly joined Connie for the verse, their voices hitting a perfect, instantaneous harmony.

_ Look into the blue sky _

_ And you're blueness might be soaked into the sky _

_ When you feel like nobody _

Savory and Connie once more sung together, hitting the notes just right.

_ Just look at the stars _

_ And remember they are twinkling for you _

The sound of Marjoram's drum returned,

_ In your eyes I see a pond of troubles _

_ You've been hiding from us all the time! _

The two joined in duet once more while Vanilla added a few bars as the music slowly swelled.

_ But you can't keep all in forever _

_ Can't you see that we are all right here for you?_

Connie played the guitar as Savory joined her again on the next verse.

_ Now let me tell you one thing _

_ We're all right here for you and only you! _

_ We will always sing for you _

Vanilla could tell the big chorus was coming, except this time nothing would go wrong.

_ So why not sing along with us? _

Connie extended a hand out towards the crowd, symbolically urging the enchanted audience.

_ Let go of all your troubles _

_ Be free of your mind and let it go! _

_ It's funny how things turn around. Just by singing out loud! _

The guitar and drum both began to beat as the chorus finally began, bursting through with a fiery spirit as powerful as the song itself.

_ Because the fire is right there! _

_ In your voice! _

_ Listen to it, ooh listen to it! _

Connie steadied the microphone, pouring her soul into each word as she sang.

_ The vision of your own dreams _

_ You must see it through! _

_ It's in your voice!... _

The drums fell silent as Basil took over with the violin. The tune of the harmonica softly playing along too.

_ Let go of all your troubles _

_ Be free of your mind and let it gooo... _

_ It's funny how things turn around. Just by singing out loud! _

Marjoram's drum came back in full force, the rhythmic beat spicing up the song.

_ Let go of all your troubles _

Savory returned with great vigor, as well as the piano which once more sprung to life in a grand manner.

_ There ain't nothing like singing out loud like this! _

_ Ooh! It's funny how things turn around _

_ When we're all singing as one! As one! _

Connie held the mic, using a finger to emphasis the repeating words.

_ Let go of all your troubles _

The two songstresses continued together into the last few verses.

_ Be free of your mind and let it go-ooh! _

_ And we will sing for you, my friend! _

_ If you keep on listening 'til the end _

_ La la la la la la! _

Connie swayed around, her hips dancing to the music as she played on the guitar and sang.

_ There ain't nothing like singing out like this! _

_ La la la la la la! _

The drums and bass fell silent, and the harmonica slowly faded._  
_

_ So why not sing along with us? _

_ La la la la la la! (la la la...) _

And the song concluded with the final strokes of the keys on Savory's piano. The cheers were almost earsplitting as the joyous cries of praise poured from the crowd.

"WhooHoo!"

"Connie, you're the best!"

"Savory!

"Go, new guy!"

"Thank you, everyone! You're so kind!" Connie beamed and waved to the still applauding audience. Vanilla was glad, his first major concert with the band had gone just perfectly. And to finally have performed the songs in full was just as fun. Though, he had to wonder, what did the song, _Impossible_ mean? It certainly had a somber tone to it...

"Excuse me!" A voice suddenly called out, and several heads turned to see the station master, a man dressed in a powder blue uniform approaching the stage area.

"Is something wrong? I thought we still had some time before we had to clear the square." Connie asked as the man climbed onto the stage in a panic.

"The bandits hiding out in the Quail tunnels have just beaten the squad sent in to deal with them!" The station master said, almost out of breath. A collective gasp rose, and fearful glances began to spread on the faces of the crowd.

"But what about the reinforcements that were coming this afternoon?" Marjoram ask, getting up from the drum set.

"There's no time. According to the radio report, the bandits are heading towards Happy Garland as we speak!" And the distress among the crowd only grew worse.

"Then we'll handle it." A voice said, and Fennel appeared on the stage once more, a confident grin on his face.

"But it's too dangerous. You could get hurt!" Connie tried to argue, her concern showing as always.

"Not to worry. I didn't say I'd go it alone." Fennel reassured her, then looked to Vanilla. "Think you can handle a couple of no-life thugs?" The guitarist asked. Vanilla nodded, then looked to Connie as her face showed even more concern.

"Don't worry, Connie. I promise we'll be back safely."

"That's the spirit." Fennel said with a laugh, then turned to the station master.

"We'd better get going then if we want to stop the bandits in time." The station seemed hesitant at first, then nodded.

"Alright, come with me. I'll call the emergency transport cart."

#

The Quail tunnels were a large, single route that connected Happy Garland and Nefroburg by passing through an old cave system in the large mountain that sat between the two towns. It served as a safer means of traveling after bandit activity in the Sabbia became out of control. The large, almost cavernous passage went on for miles, lit only by dim orange light.

"You ready, kid? These guys aren't gonna roll over as easily as the Killer Elephants." Fennel asked the youth, both piloting their respective trotmobiles. They were being transported via a mobile cart, which was used for emergency repairs if a train broke down while still in the tunnels. They had left the station only minutes ago, the cart carrying both of their trots along at a speed of about 20 mph.

"Yea. I just can't understand why there's so much bandit activity springing up." Vanilla muttered, starting to find it distressing with the level of rampant crime.

"No clue. Though some say that some big organization is funding the smaller bandit groups and even outfitting them with high tech trotmobiles. But that's only stuff I heard from the local drunks at the bar." Fennel said, chuckling. Suddenly the cart came to a stop, the operator stepping out of the control seat.

"There, up ahead." He pointed, and the two trotmobile pilots looked.

A giant, rumbling steamroller of a trotmobile sat lethargically a few yards ahead of them. There were 4 smaller, crimson colored trots, all bearing long-ranged cannon arm frames, while the massive behemoth of a machine itself had various slot for smaller machine guns. Belches of hissing steam erupted from the large machine, it's yellow headlights glowing ominously.

"Phew. That thing's huge. Now I can see how they managed to get into the tunnels so easily, they must have plowed right through one of the walls." Fennel mused to himself, carefully looking at the bandit machine. "Alright, I got an idea; I'll stay back and provide cover fire while you run in and put those losers down, hard. Just don't try to get ahead of yourself. Nutmeg may know how to build tough armor, but that stage arm isn't the ultimate shield." The guitarist explained, situating himself properly in the cockpit of his blue trotmobile.

"Mhmm." Vanilla nodded, there wasn't much time to debate over strategy, especially when the youth hadn't exactly been proving himself a master strategist in the first place. Hopping off the transport cart, Vanilla braced himself, this was gonna be a tough one.

"Now!" Fennel shouted, then aimed with the long-ranged cannon on his right arm, firing off three shots that scattered the 4 bandit trotmobiles and forced the large machine to back away. Immediately a hail of gunfire came at them like a sideways hailstorm. Vanilla charged through the fire, the bullets pelting and bouncing off the stage arm. As he neared one of the bandit trots, he extended the sword arm and threw all his weight into cutting at the leg frames. The pilot of the trotmobile gave a cry of alarm as the right leg was sliced and sent him toppling over, cowering in fear as he tried to avoided the still incoming bullets.

"Bastard!" One of the bandits closet to the machine yelled, then took aim at Vanilla. But his mech was engulfed in a plume of smoke, Fennel lowering his cannon as it trailed smoke. The remaining two bandits then charged forward, standing side-by-side of one another as they bore down on Vanilla. They smashed into him, knocking the Earl back several feet, and nearly catapulting Vanilla from the cockpit.

"Aggh, idiot!" Fennel grumbled as he took off towards the bandits at lighting speed. Raising the smaller rifle arm, he squeezed off two shots that pierced the engine blocks of both bandits, stopping them dead in their tracks.

"Come on, get up!" Fennel barked at Vanilla, who was slowly propping the Earl back up. He was definitely amazed at the skill of the former Globetrotter, it was almost like fighting was second nature for him.

"Alright, now we got to find a way to disable this hunk of junk." Fennel pointed towards the lumbering steamroller trot. The machine guns had ceased firing, likely being reloaded at that very moment. Instead though, it came charging at the pair, the large spiked grill ready to skewer their trotmobiles.

"Ok, when I say it, I want you to jump onto that thing. If you can smash up the front, they'll have no choice but to bail from that thing." Fennel said, holding out an arm to signal for Vanilla to be ready. The charging behemoth was closing in, only less than 15 feet from them.

"Jump!" And Vanilla launched himself off the ground and onto the top of the steamroller, the heavily grooved roof proving a tricky point to stand on. Fennel meanwhile began dashing back, firing off shots at the machine guns which once more blared to life. Vanilla used the sword arm to secure himself on the roof, then began smashing away at the face of the machine, where small box like windows showed panicking bandits.

"Hurry up, kid! I'm running out of space here!" Fennel shouted, glancing back to see the cart not far behind him. The steamroller was now looming over him, making any attempts at firing impossible. The steamroller had just smashed by the now abandoned bandit trots, their riders having hightailed it away from the approaching danger. Vanilla swung heavily, crushing through the window, where two pilots dodged out of the water with alarmed cries as the control panel was obliterated in a shower of sparks and broken metal. The hissing steam puffed out, and the machine creaked to a stop, mere feet from the cart.

"Cutting it close there..." Fennel mused, his trotmobile dangerously close to being crushed between the now dead machine and the cart. "Better call up the station master, we've got some trapped rats that need to be caged." Fennel said, wiping some sweat from his forehead as Vanilla bailed from the now immobile machine.

"Y-yes sir!" The operator stuttered, feeling like he had nearly had a heart attack from the near head on collision. Soon, more transport carts arrived, carrying police trots and rescue medics.

"That was very brave of you two, taking on those bandits straight on." The police captain, a large man with a handlebar mustache praised the two. "Thanks to you, the trains can now safely run once more."

"It was nothing, Ferguson." Fennel waved it off, shrugging casually.

"I wouldn't say that!" The captain said, flabbergasted. "If it weren't for you, the very lifeline of the country would have been crippled." Ferguson said, saluting to both Vanilla and Fennel. They returned the gesture, then were escorted to the nearest available cart.

"You did good out there, kid. Though I can see you're a bit wet behind the ears when it comes to combat." Fennel began as the cart started moving and carried the two back to Garland Station.

"Yea... Well I have only been piloting for a while now." Vanilla said, somewhat bashfully.

"True, and you are head and shoulders above some novice riders I've seen. But you definitely need to see some pros in action, gotta learn how to really master your trotmobile." Fennel continued. He meant it in the sincerest way, "I'm trusting you to look after Connie. So you gotta sharpen up if you want to be there for her."

"I know." Vanilla answered, nodding.

"There's a guy back in Nefroburg, Schneider. He's probably one of the best pilots in this country aside from Elder. You should try and find him sometime, he might be able to help you out." The guitarist said, cleaning off his sunglasses and placing them back on as the cart emerged from the tunnel.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Vanilla asked suddenly, a thought coming to mind.

"Sure, shoot."

"Were you anywhere near Seagull beach, the day Connie found me?" The blonde asked. A moment passed, then the slick ex-Globetrotter answered.

"Nah, I wasn't around there. Why do you ask?" Fennel replied, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Just curious." Vanilla answered with a forced grin, he could tell Fennel was honestly confused. But his trotmobile, it really did resemble the one from the cliff...

#

An hour later, after Ferguson and his men had taken the bandits away and maintenance was dispatched into the tunnels, the station was unlocked and the rest of the gang hurried entered the check-in station.

"I'm so glad you're both ok!" Connie said as she hugged both boys tightly, relieved to see them in one piece. Vanilla turned red, while Fennel playfully rolled his eyes.

"I said we'd be alright. Didn't I?" He teased the girl, ruffling her hair as she released them from her embrace. The songstress pretended to pout, though she did seem genuinely a bit worried.

"Well, I gotta get back to the boys. But I'll catch ya guys later on the flip side." Fennel said, gesturing an over shoulder farewell before putting both hands casually in his pockets and leaving the station.

"Sir?" A voice called over to Vanilla, the station master once more.

"Yes?" The youth replied, greeting the man as he approached.

"I would like to extend my deepest gratitude for you and your friend's services. Now we can start up the lines for Nefroburg once again." The man said, bowing respectfully to the youth.

"It was nothing, I was glad to be of help." Vanilla said, modesty getting to him.

"That as it may be, I feel that I owe you something in return. So I'm offering one free train ride to any destination of your choice."

"Wow, that sounds pretty sweet." Basil remarked, a little envious of the reward.

"That's wonderful." Connie said, then was stuck by a sudden thought, "Hey Vanilla. You think we could go back to Nefroburg?"

"Huh? Now?" Vanilla asked, caught off guard by the request. Connie nodded, "Yea, it'd be nice to see mom again and let her know that the trains are safe again. Please?" Vanilla found himself melting like ice as he stared into Connie's big brown eyes.

"Sure. Besides, I should try and see if I can help Vladimir now that it's easier to get back and forth between towns." Vanilla rambled, trying to hide his flustered stammered as he agreed. He then turned to the station master, who had half-listened in on the conversation.

"Guess I'll be using that free ride now." He grinned.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Geez, a bit late, aren't I? :P Oh well, at least I got another chapter out and that's what matters. Shame I couldn't get it out before the end of last year, would have been cool to have 10 chapters as the highlight of year, but 9 is still nice enough.

Anyway, any thoughts on the scene with Sir John? I had a bit of a rough time trying to get the right bit of mystery and reveals in that part, since I didn't want to completely explain _whom_ it was that Mallow hurt just yet. Of course, any suggestions regarding changing, expanding or tweaking that scene, or any others is always welcome.

Also, full songs this time! I had always figured on getting each song played all the way at least once, since they have such nice lyrics. Of course, I may go back to the shortened versions, or just brief mentions of them for later parts, of course some of them may play in full again if the story calls for it. Just a little hard to think of way of describing the band interactions during the performances.

Well chapter 11 should be out eventually, but no immediate promises. For now, the current title is "Beat It" by Michael Jackson, and it will largely revolve around Vanilla learning about the trotmobile pilots Schneider, Ginger, Elder, and his own overall journey towards improving his skills. If anyone thinks they may know of a more apt song title, just tell me in your review.

Well that's enough prattling, thanks for reading! ^_^


	11. Session 11

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

Glad to see the story is picking up more attention, already got 40+ reviews and counting. Hopefully it'll be more than double that by the end things. ^_^

Not too much to say, but I will admit I am stuck on a few details, namely where and when to play out the completion of Fennel's quest for a new guitar (though I do have a good punchline for it), and how to properly carry out Pablo's journey so that it's not all crammed into one or two chapters and feels rushed. Otherwise, the rest of the story is more or less thought out, although I can't really give an accurate prediction of the total chapter count.

_Chapter 11_ ~ _Beat It_

The morning sun flickered through the trees like flashing lights, blurs of gold and white.

Vanilla stared out the window of the train cart, his mind drifting in and out of focus as he watched the monotonous blur of the passing landscape. He had long since lost track of time since he and Connie departed, the girl sitting across from him in a deep sleep. The blonde had to stifle a small chuckle as he noticed how loudly the girl snored sometimes, though it was a cute sounding snore. Her excitement at being able to go home left her with barely any sleep the night before.

"She sure can be impulsive sometimes." Vanilla mused as he went back to watching the scenery outside the window, thinking about the other times Connie had talked him into doing something at the drop of a hat. But it was an endearing quality, her spontaneous nature was quite invigorating to be honest. Of course, Vanilla also felt like he owed her quite a lot for helping him back on the beach.

"I wonder how Vladimir is doing." He pondered, noting how it had been nearly a week since he met the man from the house on Zibbala hill. He could only hope that none of those scary men from the Bloody Mantis discovered him. It was definitely going to be his first priority when he got back to Nefroburg, even if he didn't know how to get rid of that man in black from the inn.

"I could always say I saw Vlad on the train or something..." Vanilla thought out loud.

"Hmm? You say something?" Connie's muffled yawn pulled the youth from his thoughts, turning to see the brunette rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms.

"Oh, me? Nah, I was just thinking out loud. Sorry if I disturbed you." Vanilla answered hastily, deciding it was best to keep Connie out of the matter. He wasn't going to risk getting her involved in this matter.

"So, got any idea how long till we reach the station?" Connie asked, obviously still tired as yawns dragged out parts of her sentences.

"No. I haven't really been paying attention." Vanilla laughed, "Hey Connie, mind if I ask you a question?" He then asked, a thought springing to mind.

"Hmm? Sure. Go for it." Connie replied, happily awaiting the boy's inquiry.

"Well, I was kinda curious about one of your songs." Vanilla started, trying to figure out how to phrase the question, "The second one, _Impossible_, what are the lyrics about?"

"Um, well... They're about a friend of ours..." Connie stammered, which perplexed the youth. Had he asked something a bit too personal?

"Oh. Was it someone who... you know." Vanilla asked, cringing slightly when he noticed the slight nod a second later, "Sorry." He said.

"No no, it's alright. I guess I shouldn't be getting worked up over something like that." Connie began, "I mean, someone was bound to ask about the song sooner or later, right?" She smiled, though Vanilla could see it was more forced than sincere. An awkward silence settled between them, during which they realized the train was slowing down, and a conductor entered the cart.

"Now arriving, Nefroburg." He began, then continued on with reminders about passengers and their belongings and the like. After about 15 minutes, the train finally reached the station, people departing shortly thereafter.

Vanilla and Connie were the last two off, as they had to wait for the Earl to be unloaded and brought through the shipping yard.

"It looks like they finally got the town back in shape." Connie remarked, looking out the entrance to see the town, which was starting to look like its old self. Repairs appeared to have gone well, the damaged buildings looking brand new almost.

"If you want, you can go on ahead and catch up with your mother. No sense in making you wait with me." Vanilla said, deciding he could wait on his own, among other reasons for trying to go their separate ways.

"Sure, ok. But you should try and drop by later, I'm sure mom would like to see you as well." Connie answered with a smile, then waved as she turned to leave the station. Vanilla grinned, glad to see the talk earlier had no lingering effects, and that he was now free to deal with the Vladimir situation without risk to Connie's safety.

"First, I gotta see if that creep is still hanging around the inn." He thought inwardly, a nagging unease as he tried to sort out an viable means of distracting the man in black. Once the Earl had been unloaded and checked for fuel, Vanilla made his way down the busy streets of town, arriving at the familiar James Inn in a short time span. Disembarking from the Earl at the parking station next to Vlad's building, Vanilla made the brief stroll on the sidewalk to the inn.

"Welcome!" James greeted, chipper as ever, "Ah, didn't think I would see you around these parts again so soon." He added when he realized who had entered. The youth only barely heard the words, as he saw the dreaded man in black slouched by the bar table just as he had been before.

"Yea, turns out I'm back in town for a few days. Is there still a vacancy here?" Vanilla started some idle chat as he entered, trying to act as casual as possible.

"Sure do. Same rate as usual." James replied in between cleaning and shelving some glasses. Vanilla then sat by the bar, the man in black glancing at him for a second before returning to his drink. If Vladimir's suspicions were right, this guy was probably on orders to watch out for Vanilla if he saw him. That meant if he was going to convince the guy to leave town, he'd have to think of something believable.

"Uh, hey." Vanilla nervously tried to open a dialogue, unsure of whether the man would even acknowledge him. The dark man turned his head slightly, narrow eyes like a hawk glancing at him with a sharp look.

"Hmm." The man grunted in response, clearly he wasn't the chatty type. Vanilla swallowed on nothing, he had to do something now or risk looking suspicions. Leaning closer to the man, he uttered a whisper.

"I heard you're looking for someone."

"Is that so?" The man responded, his cold tone and intimidating.

"Ye-yea. Someone called Vladimir." Vanilla answered, and felt his blood run cold as the man turned his head to fully look at the youth with a fixed glare. For a second they said nothing, both glancing to James, who was preoccupied with arranging the liquor shelf. With a curt nod towards the island table behind them, Vanilla followed him over.

"This had better be good. Now spill it." The man asked, leaning over the table as he maintained a hushed whisper.

"Well I uh.. I heard from someone that he was seen heading to Seagull beach a few days ago." Vanilla said, then wanted to slap his forehead like a doofus. Was that the best he could come up with? This guy was a professional killer from the looks of it, he couldn't possibly fall for that.

"You don't say. Thanks, kid." The man said, standing up and heading for the door, adjusting his black coat as he went. The door chime signaled his departure, leaving a stunned Vanilla. He sat unmoving as the situation settled in his mind. He had managed to lure the man away. Without even thinking, he rushed out the door, looking both ways for any sign of the man.

"Is he really gone?" Vanilla thought, feeling a strange elation from his seemingly successful act of deception. James meanwhile watched with a confused look, muttering something about teenagers under his breath with a sigh.

"I better go now. Who knows how long that guy might take before he realizes I lied." Vanilla thought, shivering as he then thought about the likely consequences if he was found out. But now wasn't the time to worry, he had to keep his promise no matter what.

#

It was a little past 2 when Vanilla reached the house on Zibbala hill. He had waited by the Earl for a few minutes, just to be sure the man in black wasn't going to come running back. Once he was certain that he was in the clear, Vanilla departed through the gate with much haste. And now he was back at the run down home from that stormy day, which seemed so long ago now.

"I just hope I didn't take too long." Vanilla thought, but tried to be positive as he disembarked from the Earl and ran into the house.

"Hello?" He called as he knocked and open the door gently, looking around living room, which appeared much more livable now than last time. While there were still cracks in the walls and ceiling, any trace of dust was long gone. Vladimir was sitting by a window at the far end of the room, while the nun Sister Kate was sitting on a couch, surrounded by three small children as she read a book.

"Oh, it's you." The sister said, surprised by the sudden appearance of the youth. The three kids quietly watched, a girl and two boys. The girl had short reddish hair and a light blue dress, while the smaller boy wore a ragged green shirt and shorts, while the older looking one had glasses and was dressed in worn schoolboy outfit.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come around again." Vlad said, standing up and walking over to Vanilla as he entered the room. In the clearer light of day, he didn't look nearly as ghastly as before, though it was obvious that the stress of his situation had taken a toll on the poor man.

"I promised I'd come back, and now I'm here to make good on it." Vanilla said, trying his best to sound as confident as possible. Vlad's face practically lit up, a genuine look of joy on his worn expression.

"Really? You managed to convince that man to leave?" Vladimir looked about ready to cry, an understandable sentiment considering what he had been through.

"I think so. I told him you had left to go to the beach. But I'm not sure if he'll be gone for long." Vanilla said, unable to lie about the situation.

"No, I wouldn't think so. But if he's gone for even a few hours or days, that should at least give me time to speak with the police. Thank you..." Vladimir began and then stopped suddenly, "I'm sorry, but in all the confusion, I don't believe I learned your name."

"It's Vanilla." The blonde said, shaking hands with the man.

"Thank you, Vanilla. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for what you've done. Ah... to think I'll finally see my wife again!"

"It's nothing, really." Vanilla tried to say, modest as always. Vladimir then retrieved a small suitcase, and soon and he and Vanilla were heading for the door.

"Sister Kate. I'm truly grateful for you taking in an old man in his time of need." Vlad started, the nun nodding as the three kids stood beside her.

"It was my pleasure, Vlad. I'm glad that you're finally able to return home. But you're always welcome to come by." Kate said, bowing humbly.

"Yea, it was fun!" The small girl, Flora, said. "Hopefully my flowers will be all grown by then!"

"Ha ha, I hope they will be." Vlad answered, patting the girl on the head. The two boys, Rick and Robert, both looked hopeful as well.

"Take care, mister." The littlest boy, Rick said.

"I will, and you guys behave, for Sister Kate's sake." Vladimir urged as he and Vanilla headed for the Earl and boarded the trotmobile. They waved the sister and her young charges farewell, the house slowly shrinking as they descended from the hill.

"I hope they'll be fine, all alone in that place." Vanilla said aloud. He had only vaguely remembered Kate and Vlad mentioning the kids the last time he was there.

"I'm sure they will be alright. The Sister had told me she and the children had been staying there at least a few weeks long before I stumbled in." Vladimir said, leaning out the side of the passenger seat as he took in the fresh scenery.

"How did she wind up taking care of those kids anyway?" Vanilla asked, curious.

"According to Kate, the church she is a part of ran an orphanage. But unfortunately they started to run out of space, and Kate decided to take the three under her supervision until she could help them find homes. Shame really, having to stay in that run down house with so little to live on. But hopefully once I've gotten business settled back home, I can try and repay her and help the kids."

"They seem pretty happy together at least. That's a good thing." Vanilla said as they approached the gate to reenter Nefroburg.

"True. The oldest, Robert, has got to be the brightest kid I've ever seen. He actually solved a brain teaser in an old copy of the Garland newspaper. Even I couldn't figure it out. While Flora, the girl, wants to sell flowers for a living. She's even got a patch of sunflowers growing on the window sill of the second floor." Vladimir said, laughing, "And Rick, the little guy, loves trotmobiles. I actually told him how I once met Schneider. He's the champion of Nefroburg in case you didn't know."

"Yea, I heard about him. A friend of mine said I ought to look for him since I've been needing practice piloting." Vanilla said, passing through the gate and back into the streets of town.

"Good luck on that. Though the last time I saw the guy, he wasn't in a very talkative mood." Vladimir joked as Vanilla parked the Earl Gray II outside the Reality office. The distant ringing of the clock sounded 4, still plenty of time to visit Rosemary's and then track down Schneider, Vanilla thought to himself. Vladimir looked beside himself with glee as he unlocked the door to his store.

The interior was quite orderly, with a large desk set in front of a large shelf, filled with documents. A partition sectioned off the desk and the door beyond the tiny office. Vladimir smiled fondly, glad to be back in his home after so long.

"Thank you, Vanilla. It heartens me to finally be back where I belong." The man turned to say to the youth, only to pale even more so than ever. Vanilla quickly grew unnerved by the perturbed look, and slowly glanced over his shoulder at the imposing form of the man in black.

"Where you belong, Vlad, is six feet under." The man in black growled lowly, then glared at Vanilla. "And you, I've got half a mind to bury you with the old man for leading me on like that." He said, shoving the youth to the floor with a harsh jab. But before the man could take another step towards Vanilla or Vlad, the screech of a whistle sounded.

"Shit!" The man hissed, tensing as an officer entered the office with a grim look.

"Can I help you, officer?" The man in black feigned ignorance as he turned to face the cop. Vanilla slowly rose to his feet, but remained cautious.

"Sir, we have reports that you have been stalking and harassing people in the area. You are hereby asked to accompany me to the station posthaste." The officer said in a very firm tone. The man in black scowled, but did as he was asked and stepped out of the office, where a second officer greeted him and led him away towards the town square.

"I apologize for the abrupt intrusion." The officer said, turning to Vlad and Vanilla with a bow.

"Actually I was just about to give you guys a call." Vladimir wryly smirked.

"No need, sir. Your wife tipped us off about the man a while ago, the day she reported you went missing to be exact. Of course, without any evidence to go on, we were relegated to simply keeping an eye on the man until he made a move. When he suddenly left for the Egret River, we knew something must be going on." The officer, who identified himself as the lieutenant, explained.

"Ah, my dear wife. I was so worried about her well being, it heartens me to know she's alright after all." Vladimir said, sitting down in an empty chair as he was overcome by relief.

"You'll also be happy to know she's been safe in our custody as well. When you're ready to see her, just head down to the station." The lieutenant said, then pardoned himself and left the office.

"I guess that wraps up everything." Vanilla remarked with a light chuckle.

"It would seem so. Again, I thank you, Vanilla. Now I can finally see my lovely wife once more." Vladimir said, looking back to the youth, "I simply must repay you for your good deeds."

"No, that's perfectly all right. You shouldn't have to owe me anything." Vanilla said, holding up his hand to dissuade Vlad.

"Nonsense, without your selfless act of kindness, I might have spent god knows how long hiding from that man." Vladimir insisted, "And now that I've had time to think about it, I just might have the perfect reward in mind. You mentioned you're looking for someone to train with, right?"

"Yea, that's right." Vanilla answered.

"In that case, you should try and seek out _Ginger_, the former UTC Champion."

"Ginger?" Vanilla echoed.

"He's the man before Elder, the current Champion, and supposedly the one who trained Schneider how to pilot. If you could find him, he just might be able to provide you with the training you seek." Vladimir explained, looking quite sure of himself.

"Thanks. I'll see what I can find out." Vanilla said, then turned to leave, "So long, Vlad. Take care of yourself."

"I will. And you be careful as well." Vlad called back as the youth left his office.

#

As Vanilla was passing by Rosemary's, a familiar aroma caught his attention. Following it around the corner to where the Bakery was, Vanilla discovered a large cart near the parking space. The familiar face of Charles could be seen, dressed in a cook's attire and handing out paper wrapped version what had to be the stake burgers.

"Hey! Vanilla!" The man called out as he turned to spot the approaching youth. "Long time no see." He quipped with a confident grin, a marked improvement from his previously more dour expression.

"Wow, Charles. Looks like you've been really busy lately." Vanilla said, watching as people came and went, each coming to purchase the burgers. Charles nodded, adding a light chuckle as he turned away briefly to check the hissing stove behind him.

"Hmm, yea. Ever since you gave me that recipe, people have asking me nonstop to make them the burgers." Charles began, explaining how he reopened the food cart that had belonged to a relative of his. "And wouldn't you believe it, but Sheryl's even offered to help me out as well!"

"Charles!" A voice rang out, and the two turned to see a young woman approaching, dressed in a blue skirt and white blouse. Vanilla immediately recognized her as the one from the Church, the one Charles had spoken of quite fondly. She was carrying a bag, which she handed to Charles who reached out to accept it.

"Thanks, Sheryl. By the way, have you met Vanilla? This is the friend of mine I told you about." Charles said, gesturing to the youth as he laid the bag down inside the cart.

"Hello, pleased to meet you. I'm Sheryl." The woman greeted the youth with a pleasant smile.

"Same here." Vanilla replied, courteous as ever.

"So Sheryl, we still on for tonight?" Charles asked as he emptied the bag of groceries. Sheryl nodded her head vigorously, humming slightly.

"Yep, just make sure to lock up the cart as always." She replied.

"Haha, I know." Charles laughed, pretending to frown at the comment made at his expense. Vanilla watched the two, smiling at the clear display of affection the two showed one another. It looked like quite nice, he thought. And it was amazing to think that only a few days ago, Charles was this meager fellow who thought so little of himself.

"Well, it was nice catching up with you, Charles. But I have get going." Vanilla finally chimed in, realizing that it was starting to get late.

"Take care then, Vanilla. And thanks." Charles said, waving as the youth left.

#

Vanilla arrived at Connie's just as she and her mother were settling down for dinner, courtesy of Ms. Echinacea.

"Hello, deary. Connie said you'd be dropping by soon enough." The older woman greeted with a pleasant smile, waving her pan holding hand as Vanilla entered the small one room apartment. The table in the center had been cleared and covered with a cloth for the meal, lamb chops and lima beans.

"Yea, sorry I'm late. I was just catching up with some things." Vanilla excused himself as he was invited to the table. Rosemary sat beside Connie, a quilted shawl draped over her shoulders. It was good to see that she could manage such strength given her condition.

"Connie and I were just talking, she said you joined the Globetrotters, is that so?" Rosemary asked as Ms. Echinacea helped set everyone's plates.

"Mm-hmm, that's right." Vanilla politely nodded, pitching in every few seconds to help distribute everyone's plate.

"That must be fun, getting to play with everyone." Ms. Echinacea said as she sat down and everyone began to eat. They continued talking, Vanilla and Connie sharing more stories of their time together, including the caravan journey, and Vanilla even mentioning the painter Pablo, from Fort Raven.

"My, it sounds like you two have already had quite the adventure in such a short time." Rosemary remarked, faintly smiling.

"I guess you could say that." Connie giggled, seeming a bit embarrassed by the harmless remark.

"So have you seen Dandelion yet?" Rosemary asked Connie. The question seemed to make the young brunette pause for a second, then shake her head.

"Uh, no, not yet. But we'll probably see him before we head out for the next stop on our tour. He did call Marjoram a while back to say he was close to finishing the next sheet of music." Connie hastily explained, Vanilla once more noting the girl's odd reaction to the boy's name. But before anyone could make note of her odd reaction, the girl began to talk about Fennel's departure, and how he had struck out to make his own band.

"That's quite a surprise. Of course, I always remembered that boy had a creative streak about him." Ms. Echinacea remarked with a fond smile. After a while they finished eating, and Vanilla helped Ms. Echinacea with taking the dishes back to her room.

"Thanks, hon. So how much longer are you and Connie in town for?" She asked as the dirtied plates were laid in the sink by the blonde.

"Probably till the day after tomorrow. Thankfully we've still got some down time until Marjoram books the next gig." Vanilla explained.

"I see. Well in that case you should definitely make sure to come by for dinner again tomorrow night." The woman said with a wink, "I just think it's cute seeing you two look together." She added, a grin spreading on her face as she saw Vanilla flash red.

"Uh, I... um I mean. I have to go." Vanilla stammered, leaving the room abruptly as Ms. Echinacea chuckled knowingly to herself.

"Ho ho, such a nice boy." The woman jovially thought aloud as she began to hum while washing the dishes.

#

After cooling down, Vanilla excused himself from Connie's, setting out for the arena. Hopefully he'd be able to find Schneider without much difficulty. As the youth entered the lobby, he was greeted by a familiar face.

"_Ah_, do my eyes deceive me? It's been a while, Vanilla." Dino's _unique_ tone made the youth lightly cringe as the thin man approached him and shook hands. There was just something about the man that always made Vanilla feel a bit uneasy.

"I knew you couldn't stay away for long. So, I heard you've gone up a rank while you were away." Dino said, faking disappointment. Vanilla laughed it off, humoring the eccentric proprietor. After enduring the usual gushings of the strange man, Vanilla excused himself to head downstairs to where the gladiators were.

"Oh... Don't be a stranger." Dino frowned, but complied before trudging off to the arena as a fight got under way.

"Boss!" Another familiar voice cried out, and before Vanilla knew it, he was clasped tightly in a near suffocating bear hug by a large heavyset man, Bobby.

"Heard you were back in town. How you've been?" The former leader of the Killer Elephants spoke as he placed the stunned youth back on his feet, who swore inwardly that one of his ribs must have cracked.

"Good. So what are you doing here?" Vanilla groaned, feeling his chest to be sure he hadn't broke anything.

"Simple, fightin'!" Bobby said with a hearty fist thump to his chest. "You said to find other ways of earning cash, and we have. I've had the boys help fix the town, just like you suggested, while I joined the arena and have been earning cash through battles."

"That's great." Vanilla said, happy to see his 'influence' as the new leader was paying off.

"So what brings ya 'round these parts, boss? Ya looking fer a rematch?" Bobby asked, sounding eager for another battle. Vanilla shook his head, "No, sorry. But I was wondering, would you know where to find Schneider?"

"Schneider? He usually hangs out in the bar all day long. Why, got a bone to pick with him?" Bobby asked, the goggles on his face slipping slightly as he quirked his brow.

"Sort of, I was hoping he might be able to help me with something." Vanilla said, turning to get ready to leave.

"Ah, I see. Looking to get some training tips from the pros, huh?" Bobby grinned, seeming to pick up on Vanilla's intent. "When you see him, mind telling him I want a match against him?"

"Sure thing, Bobby." Vanilla chuckled waving over his shoulder as he began to climb the stairs. "See ya later, and remember: stay out of trouble!"

"Yea yea!" Bobby sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes and making a dismissive wave with his hands.

#

The Aphrodite bar was in full swing, as always when Vanilla descended to the basement level establishment. Though not nearly as loud when the Killer Elephants were in town, the blurring murmur of drunken singing and chatter was still as dense as ever.

"Hey. Nice to see you again, _handsome_." The blonde hostess from before greeted him, her sexy smile still making him feel uneasy. She sauntered away from the corner where she stood, swaying her hips as she approached Vanilla. "I don't believe we were properly introduced last time, I'm Silvia. How about you, sweetheart?"

"Um... Vanilla." The youth mumbled, feeling his face heat up as the woman's face came very close to his. Silvia giggled, coyly placing a pinky finger to her lips as she smiled. "Hmm, nice to meet you, _Vanilla_." She purred. "I hope you'll stay a while here." She then grinned and turned away, leaving Vanilla speechless. Shaking his head, the blonde nervously sat at the bar counter, where a cleanly shaven bar tender eyed him with scrutiny.

"You sure you're old enough to be here?" The man asked skeptically.

"I'm trying to look for someone, that's all." Vanilla explained, "Schneider, I heard he frequents this place." The bartender was about to say something, when the "_clang_" of a slamming glass caught both of their attention.

"And who, exactly, is looking for me?" Vanilla turned his head towards the far corner of the bar counter, where he saw the dark haired man from before. His steely gaze narrowed into a bitter sneer as he stared at the blonde. Vanilla stood up and approached the man, who kept one eye on him and the other on his empty glass.

"I'm Vanilla." He said, albeit a bit nervously, Schneider huffed, not even turning to acknowledge the extended hand.

"I don't care." He said dismissively, shaking the empty glass to notify the bartender for a refill.

"Well I was hoping, if it weren't a problem for you, that you could show me how to be a better pilot." Vanilla continued, undeterred by the man's immutable hostility.

"I don't train anyone, never have, and never will." Schneider replied, putting much emphasis on the last four words before knocking back a shot of gin.

"Then maybe you could tell me where I could find Ginger, maybe he could-" Vanilla was about start when Schneider stopped drinking and sharply turned his head to look directly at the youth for once.

"What do you want with him?" He growled, his hand tightly clenching the glass it threatened to shatter.

"I heard he was the former champion, at least until that other guy, Elder beat him and.."

"Elder is nothing but an arrogant bastard who betrays people and abuses his power!" Schneider's bitter tone was almost like the bark of a hound, sudden and powerful. Vanilla almost fell to the floor from the sudden outburst, and looked around as a few patrons looked their way. Schneider glared at them, an action that made them frightfully shudder away. He then grunted and resumed his seat.

"Anyway, it's not like I'd tell you where to find Ginger. His teachings aren't just something to be passed on to kids like a hand-me-down."

"But I need to learn how to pilot my trotmobile better, so that I can protect my friends." Vanilla argued back, doing his best to keep his own tone in check. Schneider sighed in exasperation, though a faint, wry smile twitched on his lips.

"Is that so?" He mumbled, his tone now more curious than bitter. "Judging by your voice, I can tell you're being honest."

"You can tell that, just from my voice?" Vanilla asked, a bemused expression crossing his face.

"A soldier can read just about anything from a person." Schneider chuckled, motioning for Vanilla to take a seat beside him.

"You're a soldier?"

"Former, actually." The spiky haired man corrected, then calmly drank from the glass still clutched in his hand.

"What happened?" Vanilla asked without thinking, quickly noting the frown that formed on Schneider's face.

"Heh, not many people usually ask about my past. Let's just say that I'm from a place that no longer exists."

"A place, that doesn't exist anymore?" Vanilla was really confused now.

"Yea, a small country west of here, barely even had a name of its own, and a complete buffoon for a leader." Schneider began, becoming lost in thought. "About 10 years ago, he tried wage war with the neighboring countries, and got himself killed."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, I drifted my way to here, just taking odd jobs, none of which really suited me. Then again, when you grow up knowing nothing but fighting, it's hard to really be good at anything else." Schneider smirked wryly, shaking his head. "Eventually I drifted here to Nefroburg, and met Ginger. He taught me how to pilot trotmobiles, gave my life guidance."

"Then how come you're here?" Vanilla asked.

"Why? Because of that miserable traitor, Elder." Schneider bitterly snarled before falling quiet. "I'm done talking. If you want to find Ginger, then go to the underpass near the museum." And with that, Schneider ended their conversation, turning away from Vanilla with a harsh shrug. The youth didn't dare to say another work, simply leaving the bar and the brooding man.

#

Nighttime had completely settled over Nefroburg, the orange glow of the lamp lights contrasting with the deep blue of the night sky. Vanilla felt a slight shiver as the cool air bit at his skin, but he ignored the feeling as he wandered past the recently rebuilt museum. The large iron gate was closed, but he had no business there, instead descending the small incline that ran between the walls of the museum and the train station.

"This is kinda eerie..." Vanilla thought to himself as he carefully walked along the small alley, which ran from the wall of the station to a another incline that led up to the two rows of housing behind the museum. Halfway through the walk, he spotted a darkened passage, the underpass that went into the train yard.

"Hello?" Vanilla poked his head into the passage, which stretched about a good 30-40 feet from where he stood to the other end. At the far end, he could see a long figure huddled beside the glow of a small fire. Approaching cautiously, he could see it was a makeshift bonfire, flaming debris encircled by cinder blocks. The figure, a bearded man dressed in a heavy brown cloak, looked up.

"Oh, a visitor?" The man croaked, his voice sounding more wizened than what his unkempt appearance betrayed. "And what might have brought my way?"

"Are you Ginger, the former UTC champion?" Vanilla asked, quite stunned to think that this was the former champion he had heard about. The man nodded calmly, "Yes, I'm the one they call Ginger. And who might you be?"

"I'm Vanilla. I was told I could find you here, by Schneider." Vanilla explained, to which Ginger made a somewhat awed expression.

"Hmm, never would have imagined Schneider to just tell anyone of my whereabouts. You must have really made an impression on him to gain his trust like that." The old man said, prodding the fire with a stick before looking back at the youth.

"I don't know... He seemed kinda bitter, and mean..." Vanilla chuckled wearily.

"I can't blame him, not since what Elder did to the two of us." Ginger thought pointedly.

"Why, what did Elder do?" Vanilla asked, starting to grow a bit concerned by all this talk of Elder being bad. Was there something about that man he hadn't picked up on when he had met him?

Ginger was quiet at first, then released a heavy sigh and spoke. "Four years ago, he came to me a broken and bitter man, wracked by a guilt and grief that I could not fathom. So I trained him, and taught him the ways of trotmobile piloting, hoping that it would teach him control over his emotions. But instead, he turned on me, and stole my title. Schneider has since sworn to take the title back, and stop Elder before he does something truly unforgivable. However, I fear that if Schneider doesn't learn to contain his own anger, he'll never be able to stop Elder." Ginger finished his little tale with a solemn look, while Vanilla simply looked beside himself with shock.

_What does that mean? Is Elder really some dangerous mad man?_ Vanilla held his head and shook it. _No, I have to focus. I have to become stronger, for Connie, and myself._

"I take it that you seek my tutelage, yes?" Ginger asked suddenly, his expression hardening. Though Vanilla hadn't noticed it, the old man had been quietly observing him, as though reading him like a book.

Vanilla stammered, caught off guard by the question. "Y-Y-Yes. I may not be the best pilot, but I know that I want to be able to protect the people that I've come to be close to." Vanilla said, resolute. Ginger scratched his beard, thinking deeply.

"I see. Yes, I can sense a strong spirit in you." He began, standing with a tired groan. "However, I must warn you; I will not go easy on you. If you truly seek to become strong, you must be ready for any challenge that comes your way.

"If it were easy, then there wouldn't be a need to become stronger." Vanilla said, more jokingly than seriously.

Ginger laughed heartily. "A most excellent answer, most excellent indeed. Fine then, go to the canals and look for the open sewer gate in one hour. If you're sure about this, I will be waiting for you."

#

The Earl Gray II sloshed noisily through the water as it walked through the canals that ran along the outer walls of the city. It was like a scene from some cheesy movie, with the protagonist seeking the martial arts master in some absurd location, made only more bizarre by the conveniently open sluice gate halfway down the length of the waterway.

"I just hope this isn't some lame prank I'm walking into." Vanilla thought for a second before entering the narrow, slanted passage. At the far end, was a strangely spacious chamber, roughly the size of a small house. Small waterfalls cascaded from round openings that hung off the walls.

"Good, you've come." Ginger's voice echoed in the chamber, as did the lumbering footfalls of a trotmobile. From beyond one of the emptying openings, emerged a small trotmobile. It had a Normal Body M model, with flipper like feet on the bird like legs, a fin like roof, a trident on the right, and a strange "v" shaped blade on the left. Oddly, there was something familiar about the trots design, but it was ultimately lost on Vanilla as to why.

"If you're ready, then face me." The old man said, holding up the trident in a fierce stance. Vanilla nodded, although with a bit of hesitation.

Like a shot, Ginger's trotmobile quickly closed the gap between them, surprising Vanilla with its shocking display of speed. He barely had time to dodge the powerful swing of the three prongs from the trident, which came narrowly close to piercing the Earl. However, before the youth could counter with a hasty slash from the sword arm, Ginger pulled back with his left arm, throwing forward and releasing the strange looking blade.

"What the hell? It's a boomerang?" Vanilla cursed as the weapon spun towards him, clipping the Earl's left shoulder before swinging back to Ginger's arm via a magnetic plate.

"If you let your enemy surprise you so easily, then you'll always be at their mercy." Ginger said, lunging forward with the trident arm, which struck deep into the Earl's lower right side with an ear splitting grind. Vanilla jerked himself loose and countered with a broad swing of the shield arm, which seemed to only shoo Ginger more so than dissuade his assault.

"Good, you at least seem to understand that you must maintain your wit even when the battle is tipping in your opponents favor." Ginger stated, ceasing his attack for a moment. "But a true fighter has to be ready to adapt at any moment. There's no surefire way to know what will happen, only that carelessness and haste will not always save you." He continued, his words hitting home for Vanilla. It was, until recently, a lot of luck that had saved Vanilla's hide. But if he was to face the Bloody Mantis, and whatever else might befall him and Connie, he had to become more resourceful.

"I'm ready." Vanilla said calmly, taking a breath to relieve the anxiety that had built from the brief skirmish. Ginger grinned, then resumed his attack.

The sounds of battle carried on for several hours, Vanilla taking more and more hits and damage. But with each narrow defeat, he began to anticipate better, studying Ginger's movements. Soon, as the sun began to rise once more outside over town, Vanilla found himself countering the previously tricky moves.

"That's it. Now you're starting to get the hang of it." He complimented as the youth brilliantly parried the boomerang, sending the blade careening into a nearby wall where it became lodged. The Earl was in pretty rough shape, looking as though it had gone 10 rounds with Bobby and Dudley at the same time, and looking almost twice as bad as the time it had faced the latter.

"However, I'm afraid that this is as far as I will teach you." Ginger said, abruptly ending a another strike and pulling back. Vanilla felt confused, but remained silent.

"You show great determination, and quite an adaptive personality, both of which are great qualities. A great pilot cannot be made overnight, but I'm sure that if you take my lessons to heart, you'll be able to surpass your previous limitations." Ginger said, facing away from Vanilla with a dramatic turn.

"Thank you, Ginger." Vanilla said, half grinning at the cliched feeling of the unfolding scene. With a courteous bow, Vanilla slinked out of the waterway.

Ah hour later, after visiting the local mechanic, Vanilla lumbered into the inn, the weight of fatigue pulling him down like a stack of bricks on his shoulders. Throwing himself on the bed, he quietly allowed sleep to overtake him.

A long, drawn out yawn drew from his lungs. "Man... I'm beat."

It was much latter that Connie wandered by the inn room, knocking and opening the door.

"Vanilla?" The girl peeked her head in, only to see the lying form of the boy, sleeping quietly.

A small grin played across her lips, and she softly murmured to herself as she carefully pulled the covers over Vanilla. "Hmm, guess he must have had a long night."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Ok, did some touching up and added some lines near the end. It's probably not the best fix up, but it should help things feel not quite as rushed as before. Again, I am always willing to hear any suggestions. Though I will say, I have figured I'd keep Vanilla to the sword and shield combo since it would be a bit troublesome to try and have him juggle parts, especially since he can't exactly "stuff" them away when they're not attached. Anyway, chapter 12 shouldn't be far behind, as I do have the beginning more or less thought out (warning, it might be a tearjerker :P). Stay tuned!


	12. Session 12

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

While I'll admit that the end of chapter 11 was a bit rushed, I believe this one should be a bit more well paced. Of course, some big revelations will come to light, namely about the boy Dandelion and Chicory. For those who played the game, there won't be much changed, but expect a few tweaks here and there. Those of you who haven't played the game, get ready for a dozy, heheheh. This chapter, like chapter 8, is also named after one of Nadia Gifford's songs; Memories from **Disaster Report 3**. Listen to it here, .com/watch?v=eLlmCHbP53A. I highly recommend listening to it as you start reading this chapter, it'll make sense. Though I can't guarantee the lyrics I wrote are correct, I tried my best. If someone thinks they know "the right ones" then by all means email them! :)

_Chapter 12_ ~ _Memories_

A young girl of 12 emerged from the train at Garland station, her soft brown hair, tied into cute pigtails that were complimented well by her flowery white and pink dress. Her round, cherubic face expressed an air of urgency, she was late.

_ Even if a story, always has, a way to find its final word _

"Excuse me!" She kindly said as she narrowly pressed by a couple on their way through the terminal to the train. She sometimes hated having such a soft voice, it always made it hard for her to be heard over large crowds.

_ One little laugh, is all you need to let it come back to life _

"I hope the guys aren't mad at me for being late again!" The girl thought aloud, tugging lightly at her pigtails as her worriment got the best of her. She emerged from the station, and spotted two familiar looking boys across the street from her.

"Hey! I'm here!" The girl called excitedly, waving one arm up high as though to sweep the sun playfully.

_ Even if you don't want, the page to turn _

_ You wished the chapter never ends _

One of the boys, short with a shock of dirty blonde hair and worn brown overalls turned and waved back, flashing a broad grin that always brought a smile to the girl. The boy said something to the other, older looking one, and then stepped towards the street.

_ You let it flow, and see it go. It's just the way story goes _

"Hey Connie!" A voice said from somewhere, stopping the girl in her tracks. She was suddenly frozen, her feet stuck in place.

_ Colors seem to fade, if you close your eyes _

A car suddenly turned the corner of the street with a loud roar of the engine, loud and eerily menacing. The girl was suddenly overwhelmed with fear and panic.

"Watch out!" She tried to say, but was suddenly unable to speak, her voice coming out as a gasp. The boy seemed strangely oblivious to the warning and the vehicle.

"No!" Another voice cried out.

_ And you fall into a maze, where there cannot be light _

"No!" The boy was just at the edge of the street and the sidewalk as the car came bearing down at him. Time seemed to slow more and more with each second as the boy finally turned his head too late.

_ But deeper in that mind of yours _

_ She_ watched in horror as the boy's image flickered briefly, that of Vanilla's.

_ There's always something waiting for you... Forever _

"NO!" Connie cried out as the screeching sound of tires echoed in her ears like some endless, striking chord. Instantly her eyes welled up with tears.

_ Memories! Memories! Always live in the shadow of my heart! _

The older boy was now cradling the younger one in his arms, which were stained with blood. People, adults, tall as the trees surrounded them. Connie could hardly see anyone's face as shadows obscured them. She felt helpless, small.

_ Mysteries! Mysteries! If only you knew! _

"I'm... I'm..." Connie struggled to say to the weeping teen, her own sobs making her throat hurt and hard to speak.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" The boy shouted, glaring at her with cold, gray eyes. And Connie shrunk back, watching as the gaze of the adults seemed to swallow her up, everything turning hazy and black...

"Nooo!" Connie shouted as she sat upright, a crack of thunder outside timing itself almost perfectly with her outburst. Savory was sitting on the bedside, looking concerned.

"Connie? Are you alright?" The older woman asked, reaching out to calm the girl's shaking shoulders.

"I... I..." Connie tried to say, but found herself starting to tear up. This time, the tears were real.

Savory embraced her in a hug, making a shushing sound. "It's ok, it was just a dream. Everything's ok. Just lie back down and calm yourself."

_ Fantasies! Fantasies! What I see is a world I want be in!_

"I'm sorry... Chicory..." Connie quietly croaked, an arm cover her bawling eyes.

_ No... It's just another story for you _

#

Vanilla ducked into the Garland Motors, shaking the frigid rain from his soaking body like a dog with a shiver.

Rubbing his cold hands together, the youth mumbled. "Phew, weather really is bad today."

It had been like this since the day Connie and he returned to Happy Garland the night before last. After his encounter with Ginger, Vanilla received a call from Marjoram, telling him and Connie that they had to return soon to prepare for the next concert.

Since practice wasn't until later that afternoon, Vanilla decided he would try and visit George, the mechanic Fennel had commissioned to help create his "new sound", an electric guitar. However, the man wasn't anywhere to be found in the Garage, not at the workshop on the second floor, or at the service station.

"Excuse me, do you know where George is?" Vanilla asked the female mechanic from his previous visit.

"Sorry, he's not here right now." The woman explained as she tinkered with the body of a disassembled trotmobile. "Said something about going to pick up a part he ordered from a friend outside town. If you like, I can take a message."

Vanilla shrugged, shaking his head. "No, that's ok. Thanks anyway..."

"Bisque." The female mechanic said with a smile as she closed the open panel of the trotmobile body and started cleaning it off.

"Thanks, Bisque." The youth said as he turned to leave the Garage.

"Same here, kiddo."

Still having more than enough time on his hands, Vanilla decided to visit the memorial park, the storm having let up a little. He decided to take the walkway that ran along the canals, enjoying the rippling effects of the rain on the otherwise still water. Passing right under the bridge near the riverside hotel, Vanilla arrived at the street across from the park.

From what Connie had said, the towering obelisk was constructed to commemorate the town's recovery after suffering a great decline years ago. The plaza surrounding it was empty today, not many people out and about during the downpour. Three sheltered benches with slanted roofs sat to both sides one behind the structure.

"I wonder if there are landmarks like this back where I came from." Vanilla thought to himself as he stood before the tall stone structure. Beyond the vague and cryptic memories of the ship he was on with that Mallow kid, he had no clue about the culture or landmarks of his homeland. And with only a few scarce memories recovered, Vanilla had to wonder if he'd ever regain more than that.

However, the sight of a lone figure near the bench behind the monument broke the youth's train of thought. Approaching slowly, he could see the person was covered in a ragged cloak, but a familiar looking beret caught his attention.

Surprised, the youth asked out loud, "Pablo?"

The figure shifted, pulling away the cloth bundled around his head, revealing the wearied face of the artist from Fort Raven. His listless green eyes made him look older, dispirited almost.

"Oh, Vanilla. How are you?" The artist asked, his voice sounding horse.

"Me? What about you? Are you ok?" The youth asked with a forced chuckle. For someone who looked like hell, the artist had a funny way of acting casual about his own ragged appearance.

"Ah, well I finally crossed the desert like I said." Pablo grinned despite the look of fatigue in his face, "I even stopped at this beautiful oasis along the way, though I wasn't able to paint it since I ran out of paint and had my other portrait to worry about." He added, pointing to the small bundle of cloth next to him.

"You really crossed the Sabbia all by yourself?" Vanilla stammered, not sure whether to praise the man for his bravery or call him stupid for it. "You're not hurt or anything, are you?"

"No, no I'm quite fine." Pablo said, forcing another grin, though the physical strain was obvious. "I was lucky to run into a nice caravan owner who provided me with this old cloak when I left the oasis." The artist then found himself overcome by a coughing fit.

"That doesn't sound good. You should get that checked out at the hospital." Vanilla said, stepping forward to help Pablo up, who finally managed to clear his throat and politely turn down the offer.

"I'm ok cough, just feeling a bit parched." He explained, showing an empty canteen. "Ran out yesterday, just as I reached Alcazar de Condor." Another, weaker cough abruptly ending his speech.

"Then at least let me take you to get some rest and food. I can't just leave you like this." Vanilla said with a sigh of finality, helping Pablo to his feet and leading him back towards town.

It was only a short walk to the two hotels, Vanilla opting for the Station hotel. While Pablo waited in a chair, Vanilla was able to get him a seat in the restaurant. Before long, the weary looking artist was fed and looking far better off than he had earlier.

"Thanks again." Pablo said as he heartily drank from the pitcher of water on the table, "You really didn't have to do all of this." But Vanilla casually hand waved the last comment.

"What can I say, I couldn't just leave you like that." Vanilla chuckled, wondering if he had always been such a kindhearted fellow before the amnesia. Then the sound of something crashing drew their attention to the kitchen area.

A deep voice bellowed over the sound of clanging metal pots and pans. "Dammit Algernon, will you watch what you're doing?"

"S-s-sorry!" A meeker sounding voice responded, followed by the emerging figure of a rather stringy looking chef. He stepped out from the kitchen area and took off his toque as he sighed and scratched his head before heading back in.

"Wonder what that was all about." Pablo murmured. Vanilla shrugged, thinking nothing of it.

"Beats me."

"Excuse me." Another voice called, this time coming from one of the nearby tables. Looking over, Vanilla spotted Theodore, the man from the university across the street. Taking a good hard look at Pablo, the bearded man nodded with certainty.

"I thought I recognized you, you're Pablo, aren't you?" Theodore asked as he came over and sat at the table with Vanilla and Pablo.

"Yes? Do I know you?" The young artist asked curiously.

"I'm Theodore, the current director for the art department of Garland University." Theodore explained, holding out his hand to shake with Pablo's.

"Wow, it's an honor to meet you, sir." Pablo said as they shook hands.

Theodore grinned, a light chuckle spilling from his lips. "I should be saying that to you. You're a legend at the school, you know." At this, Pablo seemed quite surprised, humbled even.

"Really? I had no idea there were people who appreciated my works." Pablo said, his spirit uplifted by the news.

"Yes. Even to this day students are always mentioning how your works inspired many of them." Theodore explained.

Pablo was quiet for a moment, almost speechless from this news. Finally he spoke, rather quietly. "All this time, people really have been appreciating my works. When my family became too poor to help me pay tuition, I figured that that was it, and decided to just wander the country drawing until the day I died."

"Well, you don't have to anymore." Theodore said, Pablo quirking a brow at this comment.

"What do you mean?"

"It just so happens that the university has been in need of a new art teacher, as the last one suddenly left for personal reasons a while ago. If you're interested, I can assuredly put in a good word with the board." Theodore explained, while Pablo was just amazed, stunned even.

"I really don't know what to say." He finally managed to mumble, wondering if this whole situation was some waking dream.

"How about I show you around the university, let you get a chance to see firsthand how you're influence would be greatly appreciated." Theodore said as he rose from the table, extending his hand to seal the deal. Pablo beamed, and accepted before turning back to Vanilla.

"Thank you, Vanilla. If it weren't for you, I probably would have been wandering the streets for the rest of my life."

"Hey, I only brought you here so you didn't starve, it's Theodore you should be thanking." Vanilla joked as he stood up and paid the bill, glancing at the wall mounted clock to check the time. "Sorry, but I have to get going. But take care, and please refrain from traveling to dangerous places alone, okay?"

"Alright, I will." Pablo laughed and waved as the youth departed from the restaurant. "See you later!"

#

It was quarter after 3 when Vanilla made it back to the Lobster Inn, entering through the door as the others were getting set up on stage. All except for Connie who sat isolated at a table near the corner of the room. The girl seemed dazed, staring vacantly at the wall with her chin cupped in her hands.

"Hey Connie. You ok?" The youth asked as he approached the table. When he didn't get a response, he reached out and gently shook her shoulder. With a start the girl turned, as though snapping out of a deep sleep.

"Huh? Oh... Vanilla." She fumbled, her head clearly elsewhere. Realizing how silly she must have looked, her face reddened with embarrassment.

"Sorry. I was just saying hello." Vanilla apologized, wondering if he had done something wrong. But Connie shook her head, her vibrant smile appearing.

"It's ok, I was just a little lost in thought that's all. Had a bad dream this morning." She said, waving off the awkward moment. Vanilla shrugged and decided not to pry any further. But couldn't shake the feeling that there was something troubling the girl.

"Is everybody ready?" Marjoram asked, drawing Vanilla and Connie's attention. With an understanding smile shared between them, Vanilla and Connie approached the stage to join the others.

When they were all prepared, they began to play, not a song, but a rehearsed melody. Connie's growing familiarity with the guitar was quite apparent, as though she had been playing it all her life. The same was true of the others, Savory's fingers dancing across the ivory keys with a masterful grace, and Marjoram's soul filling the saxophone's every jazzy note. And there was something to be said of Vanilla's added harmonica element, which meshed perfectly into the tune.

However, something was off, and it was slowly becoming apparent to the others as they gradually ceased playing and looked to Basil. The smaller boy was staring at his base violin with a frown, wincing slightly as off-key notes screeched from its strings before finally stopping himself.

"Sounds like your violin is out of tune again." Marjoram said, which made Basil flinch slightly.

"Yea, it's been like that for a while now. Of course I thought maybe the strings weren't tuned right." Basil thought aloud, then added, "Guess I'll have to go see Dandelion about it."

"That's a good idea." Marjoram said. "Then you can check and see if he's got the music sheets."

"In that case, you should probably have someone go with you, just to be safe." Savory suggested, "I've heard the bandits up near Cuckoo forest have been getting really violent lately."

"Actually." Basil began, "I was planning on asking for a ride anyway, my trotmobile still isn't working right since the attack back in Nefroburg."

"Hmm, might be something wrong with the engine. I'll see if I can take it down to the repair shop tomorrow." Marjoram offered, Basil looking quite grateful for the offer.

"Thanks." Basil said gratefully, then looked around. "So, who wants to tag along on the ride to Dandelion's?"

The wall of silence that met his inquiry was almost enough to make the small musician face plant. He looked to both Marjoram and Savory with pleading eyes.

"Sorry, but I've got some errands to run tomorrow, I'm booked." Savory said apologetically.

"Same here. Between the trotmobile repairs, I also have to finish booking our next gig." Marjoram chimed in, also looking regretful for having to turn Basil down. With a defeated sigh, the bespectacled violinist turned to Vanilla.

"Then how about you?" He asked, trying not to sound as dejected as he looked. "Someone has to take me since I can't go alone." He said. Vanilla shrugged and replied, "Sure. Besides, I'd like to meet this Dandelion anyway."

"That's great." Basil cheered, his spirits already rising again. The group shared a laugh, always enjoy the kid's enthusiasm. Loading his violin into its case, Basil stepped outside to stow it in the Earl. Meanwhile, Marjoram gave Vanilla a set of directions to reach Dandelion's workshop.

"You just take the northwest exit by the Memorial and follow the path on the left. It's right at the top of the pass, next to Owl lake." The portly drummer explained, jotting down the instructions on a napkin as a reminder.

"Good. You should probably get ready to turn in soon. The trip will take a while, so it'll probably be good to head out early."

#

The following morning came with a sudden start for Vanilla, who was roused from his slumber by the eager jostling of Basil.

"Come on. Let's go! Let's go!" He urged, though groggily. Vanilla didn't know what time it was precisely, but his feeling of restlessness told him enough that it was earlier than he would have liked.

"Alright alright. Hang on." Vanilla groaned as he pulled himself from the bed, trying to shake off the lingering sleepiness that clung to his body like a heavy cloak. It was a slow, grueling start, but soon the two were heading out in the Earl Grey II.

Puddles from the storm that had passed could still be seen in the streets and sidewalks, shimmering in the morning light like pools of crystal. The air had a crisp, almost minty smell to it, the fresh trace of a recent storm. The ringing bell was deafening in the morning atmosphere, the city itself slowly awakening. Traffic was almost nonexistent, making the trek towards the northern gate all the more easier.

Cuckoo forest was a large mountainous area that occupied the outskirts of Happy Garland. Though logging had diminished the forest significantly, it was still lush and full of abundant, tall trees. Even the small field that Vanilla and Basil exited out into was teeming with great oaks that towered over the nearby walls of the city. High above the looming mountain that overlooked the city, Vanilla could see a ledge, some kind of lookout?

"Just follow the path to the left, it'll take you right to the top of the pass." Basil yawned as he pointed to a narrow passage that ran through between the tall mountain and a smaller one next to it. A steep ravine ran right through the middle, where rushing water flowed endlessly from a waterfall up near the summit. Two bridges spanned the small gaps of the treacherous path, which Vanilla carefully navigated at a slow and gentle pace. It only took an hour or so, the trek proving quite easy. They even passed a small pond near the midpoint, where deer and other critters drank peacefully.

"We're here!" Basil chimed as they reached a mesa near the top, where a large wooden house was nestled nicely near the foot of another incline that led further into the mountains. To the left, across the ravine, was a closed gate above the waterfall, a drawbridge strangely closing it off. As they parked beside the small fence line, Vanilla could hear the monotonous chirp of birds in the distant, singing their tireless song.

"Dandelion!" Basil excitedly cried out, rushing past Vanilla the moment he was handed his violin case and up the stairs to porch of the large house. Vanilla whistled in awe at the sight of the house, it was like some kind of tower. Two overhanging decks were located at the second and third floors of the structure respectively, allowing for an excellent view of the ravine nearby.

Inside, Vanilla was overwhelmed by the workshop's layout. There were all kinds of instruments laying around, violins and guitars in varying states of completion. The air was heavy with the smell of wood, and saw dust covered everything like fine powder. Tools, ranging from hammers and saws hung from the walls, with a few lying scattered about a large worktable, where two halves of a freshly cut hunk of wood sat.

"There you are." Basil called over to Vanilla, drawing the youth's attention. "I'd like you to meet, Dandelion." He said as he gestured to the tall man standing beside him.

Standing at roughly 7 feet in height, the contrast between him and Basil was almost comical. He was in his early twenties, likely the same age as Savory. Dull blonde hair framed his square face, the long bangs tied back by a thin headband. A worn, dust covered blue shirt fitted over his broad frame, while his brown slacks were covered by the carpenters belt that hung from his waist. Strangely, Vanilla felt like he had seen him before somewhere, not long ago...

"So you're the new kid I've been hearing so much about." Dandelion greeted Vanilla with a hardy handshake, his grip surprisingly gentle despite his rough outlook. "Word is, you're something of a celebrity around here and over in Nefroburg."

"Nah... I'm nobody special." Vanilla said with a coy laugh. He certainly didn't like the idea of bragging much. Ok, maybe a little.

"Heard you actually got those hooligans, the Killer Elephants under control. That's pretty impressive." Dandelion leaned back against the work bench, crossing his arms as he grinned broadly.

"Yea, and he even helped Fennel take on those bandits that overran the Quail tunnels." Basil chimed in, sounding like a hyper child talking about the latest comic.

"Really?" Dandelion asked, tilting his head with slight surprise. "And just how is Fennel doing lately?"

"Actually, he left the band a few weeks ago." Basil said, his tone a little somber. It was clear the young musician was still upset about the departure.

"So he's finally struck out on his own, huh?" Dandelion murmured, a thoughtful expression passing his face. "I always knew he wanted to lead his own group, guess he finally decided to go for it." He added, his mind briefly lost in memory.

"Anyway." He continued, "How is everyone else doing?" Basil then began to list off many of the current events that had come to pass, from Connie's discovery of Vanilla, to the events following Fennel's departure from the band. It was impressive how many syllables Basil could cram into each sentence, the words spilling from his mouth at a rapid pace.

"Easy easy, Basil. No need to rush things." Dandelion smirked, ruffling Basil's hat around like an older brother teasing his younger sibling.

"Anyway, I wanted to see if you could look at my violin. It's been acting a little funny lately." Basil finally reached the point after another long winded talk. Handing the case over, Dandelion laid it upon the central work table and removed the instrument. Holding it up at an angle, he eyed it from several perspectives.

"Hmm, looks to me like the neck is bent. That shouldn't be too hard to replace." The man finally said as he placed the violin down. He then whistled, "Hey, Tonio!"

"Yes, master Dandelion?" A voice answered, the sound of footsteps appearing near the stairs. A boy around Vanilla's age appeared, with short brown hair and a freckled face. He wore a similar outfit like Dandelion, though he lacked the belt.

"Mind opening the case upstairs with the extra violin necks?" Dandelion asked.

"Sure thing. I'll go unlock it now." And the apprentice vanished up the stairs.

"Just grab a few from the supply and I'll see if can fit it." Dandelion added, facing Basil. Like a flash, the green wearing musician was up the stairs and out of sight.

"He really hasn't changed much." Dandelion mused to himself out loud. "Basil always was a bit of a kid at heart." He then turned to Vanilla.

"So tell me, how's Connie?" Dandelion inquired as he carefully detached the broken violin neck.

"She's... doing alright I suppose." Vanilla answered, a little unsure with his response.

"I see." Dandelion's voice went quiet. "She's still hasn't forgiven herself."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Vanilla asked. Though Dandelion had his back turned to Vanilla, his sagging shoulders betrayed the heavy sigh that escaped from him.

"I'm sure you've heard about my brother, Chicory. Right?"

"Y-yea." Vanilla answered softly. He suddenly felt reminded of that tense atmosphere from before, back in Sir John's office.

"Five years ago... Chicory died in an accident, caused by a kid named Mallow."

The revelation hit Vanilla like a bolt of lightning. At once he felt sick, unable to accept the horrifying connection between what he had heard from Sir John. But he remained outwardly calm, and kept quiet.

"You see, we had lost our mom when we were young. Dr. Nutmeg was the one who took us in, sent us to school, and introduced us to Rosemary and the band. For the longest time, Mallow picked on us for being poor. I can't say for sure if that's just the way he was, or maybe a side-effect of his upbringing, but he seemed to revel in making us miserable." Dandelion explained, showing neither anger or sorrow as he spoke, his tone just soft and quiet.

"One day, while Chicory was waiting for Connie at the train station, Mallow came along and decided to play a prank on him. He took Chicory's backpack and threatened to toss it into the river. But in the scuffle, it fell into the street. Chicory went to go get it... and he was hit by a passing driver."

Vanilla was quiet, unable to say a word as he soaked in every word.

"I still remember it. I was just outside town when I got the call. It's still like a blur sometimes, I found this crowd, surrounding Chicory's body, and Connie was there. She was bawling her eyes out..." Dandelion fell silent, though the steady decrease in his tone made it hard to tell.

"She really cared about him, didn't she?" Vanilla asked, finally piecing it all together. Now he understood why Connie had always been so hesitant to speak about Chicory, she was still in mourning.

"Yes. They were very close. I fear that Connie just hasn't been able to let go, even after all this time." Dandelion confirmed, a hand rubbing his temple. The amount of restraint he showed containing his anguish was impressive, if not admirable.

"I'm sorry..." Vanilla softly muttered, almost lightheaded from the shock of what he had just learned.

"Don't worry about it." Dandelion said, a forced chuckle escaping from his lips as he sighed forlornly. "Chicory had a saying: _Live for the present, lest the past control you_. I always figured he meant that no good will ever come of focusing on the negative." He said, staring out the window, where a pair of robins fluttered playfully by a tree.

"He sounded like a great person." Vanilla said.

"It's funny. Seeing you, here, reminds me of him." Dandelion said, turning back to face Vanilla. "You even kinda resemble each other, too." He said with a warm smile.

"Really?" Vanilla found the comment oddly endearing.

"Yea. I think I can see why Connie and the others trust you so much, you're kind, just like Chicory."

"Thanks." Vanilla said, grasping the pendent idly. Though he couldn't help but wonder; did that mean Connie was...

"Dandelion! I've got the necks!" Basil's voice called, breaking Vanilla's train of thought. The bespectacled teen came thundering down the stairs, carrying an armload of violin necks. He stopped short of Vanilla and Dandelion, almost teetering over from the load in his arms.

"You didn't have to bring my entire supply, Basil." Dandelion laughed with mock exasperation. Pulling one of the necks from the armload, he moved back to the violin itself. "This one ought to do."

"Alright! Then I'll take these back upstairs." Basil said, albeit a bit disjointedly as shifted on the spot to maintain his balance.

"Just be careful, alright?" Dandelion chuckled again as he fitted the new neck and fastened it. Basil left once more, and returned a moment later just as Dandelion finished restringing the violin and testing the strings.

"Good as new. Now be more careful from now on, will ya?" Dandelion said as he placed it back in the case and handed it to Basil.

"Of course I will!" Basil said, feigning frustration. He knew he was being teased, and played his part in the polite ribbing. "So hey, Dandelion?"

"Yea, what is it?"

"Have you thought about coming back to the band again?" Basil asked, clearly hopeful.

"Why? You guys are the real stars." Dandelion said with a shrug and nonchalant wave. "I mean, who'd want to see an old has been like me play anymore." He joked, though he could see the disappointment in Basil's drooping shoulders.

Hey, cheer up, Basil. It's your time to shine, I wouldn't want to get in your way, you know what I mean?"

"Yea, I guess..." Basil frowned, looking defeated. Dandelion rolled his eyes, giving the short boy another hair ruffling pat on the head. Basil then left, carrying the case back out to the Earl Grey.

"Oh!" Dandelion exclaimed, a sudden look of realization hitting him. "I almost forgot the new music sheets I wrote." Slapping his forehead, the tall instrument maker quickly jogged up the stairs for a second, reappearing almost as quickly as he appeared with two thin sheets of paper in his hands. Thrusting them into Vanilla's hands, he said, "Make sure to give these to Connie, ok?" Then he fished around in one of his pockets, retrieving an envelope.

"What's that?" Vanilla asked as Dandelion held it over to him.

"It's a letter for Connie, please make sure she gets that as well."

"Ok, I will." Vanilla nodded, pocketing the letter along with the music sheets.

"Thanks. Better get moving along, it's usually about this time of day the bandits start roaming around." Dandelion said, taking note of the sun, which had settled into the sky and was shining brightly.

"What about you? Don't they bother you?" Vanilla asked.

"Nah, nothing to worry about. I might craft instruments for a living, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to fight back." Dandelion said with a reassuring chuckle as he and Vanilla came out onto the porch. Basil was seat in the Earl, waving his arms.

"You take care now. And make sure to give Connie a hard time for not calling me." The man said, politely shoving Vanilla as the youth walked down the steps.

"I will, thanks again for the help." Vanilla called back, waving as he climbed into the Earl Grey II.

"No problem. I'll be seeing ya." Dandelion called as the Earl roared to life and began to head back through the pass. As Vanilla and Basil disappeared from sight, the craftsman gave another, inward sigh.

"Things are certainly going to be a lot more interesting with him around." He smiled, heading back into his workshop, whistling a tune all the while.

#

It was a little after ten as the two returned to the inn, Connie and the others sitting around a table just as Vanilla and Basil strolled in.

"So, did you two have a good trip?" Savory asked, calmly sipping from a cup of tea.

"Sure did. Got my violin fixed and everything." Basil beamed, patting the case and laying it on the stage.

"Hmm, good. And how's Dandelion?" She inquired.

"He's fine, busy as always." Basil said as he took a seat.

"Did you ask him about the music sheets?" Marjoram asked, and Basil let out a tiny yelp and slapped his head.

"Oh crud! I thought I forgot something!" He groaned, the others grimacing slightly at his outburst.

"Not to worry." Vanilla said, reaching into his pocket. "He handed them to me just before we left." Pulling out the two sheets, letter included, the blonde handed them over to Connie.

"Oh that's a relief." Marjoram said, looking relieved.

"Good thing we had you tag along then." Savory mused, which made Basil blush and pout slightly at the implied jab. "Oh I'm just kidding, Basil." She added quickly, brushing his hand and giggling. The boy smiled, taking the ribbing in stride.

"Anyway." Marjoram cut in, drawing attention to himself. "I was just about to explain the arrangements for our next gig."

"So where are we headed this time?" Vanilla asked.

"To the port town of Neuhafen." Marjoram said, Connie perked up as she heard this.

"Really? I've heard it's a really nice place, especially around this time of year." She beamed, clearly excited at this prospect.

"Yep, and this isn't just a normal gig either." Marjoram smirked with a knowing laugh.

"What do you mean?" Basil asked, curious.

"We've been invited by Don Puccini."

"_The_ Don Puccini?" Savory asked, looking quite surprised. "The one who runs harbor arena?"

"Yep, the one and only." Marjoram nodded, taking some delight in the wide-eyed looks of his friends. "He personally requested us to perform on his newly complete luxury yacht tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow?" Vanilla echoed.

"Yea, I know it's a little sudden, but he was very persuasive. Besides, after this gig, we'll be taking a break." Marjoram explained.

"Did he mention if it was a formal occasion?" Savory inquired.

"I would think, that didn't come up while we were talking." Marjoram sheepishly said, realizing this minor error.

"Ooh, and I left all my good dresses back home." Connie fretted, cupping her bangs with an exaggerated panic.

"Don't worry. I might an extra dress that could fit you." Savory said reassuringly as she tried to calm Connie. Vanilla at that very moment was struck by a thought, and rose from his seat.

"I... have to go run an errand. With everything that happened today, I had almost forgotten." He stuttered, fumbling his way to the doors.

"Oh, ok, just be sure to get back soon. We're gonna have to leave early so we can get checked in at the hotel and then head to the party." Marjoram called after, not looking the least bit suspicious of the youth's strange behavior. Connie only appeared to half notice Vanilla's departure, still fretting over her dress situation.

"Don't worry. I won't forget." Vanilla said as he closed the door after him. Breathing a sigh of relief, he jogged down the street to the bank. Inside, he approached a teller, a young woman who beamed and smiled at his approach.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like to make a withdrawal." Vanilla said, clearing his throat as he stumbled on the first few syllables.

"And how much would you wish to take out?" The teller asked as Vanilla retrieved the check book he had been given.

"12,000 UR, please."

**TO BE CONTINUED**

Definitely a bit later then I had expected. Of course, the usual crap (and my usual laziness :P) got in the way. While I'm sure many of you had connected the dots regarding Chicory's ultimate fate, I would hope I did well enough in creating some mystery and suspense around it.

Now that it's out in the open, how would you all say I handled it so far? Personally, I would like to believe I made Connie's skittish behavior feel more realistic compared to her game counterpart (whom I'm sure many of us would agree at times change from one mood to the other a bit too erratically). Also, if anyone has any ideas, what could I do to improve the overall mystery if I do decide to go back and revise and tighten the story?

Another question, I was personally just winging it with Chicory's motto, as I wanted something that didn't sound too cliché or hammy (well, something that didn't seem ripped from a bad movie at least :P). So what I'm asking, if anyone thinks they might know of a good, similar motto, I'd be glad to hear, as I plan to have it play a pretty key role later on in the story.

Well, enough prattling, I thank everyone for their patience, and I promise to get chapter 13 out as soon as possible, so stay tuned!

'Til the next time, Chapter 13: _Beyond the Sea_


	13. Session 13

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

Glad to see the story still getting plenty of attention even when I vanish for so long, lol. While it would be nice to see tons more reviews and hits, it's still great to just see the number of hits always numbering well over _100_, so at least I know I'm getting quite a consistent following. :)

Anyway, I had outlined quite a bit of this chapter from the start a while ago, mostly the events that play out in Neuhafen, the beginning was a bit sketchy for me at first, as I wasn't too sure how to play it out, but I think I presenting what happens before they arrive at the last town. I was also a bit unsure about the description of the farmland and the area before entering Neuhafen, so if anyone has an idea of a better description, I'd be happy to hear it.

Anyway, here's chapter 13.

_Chapter 13_ ~ _Beyond the Sea_

Vanilla was sound asleep, at least he was until the door of his room at the lobster inn was flung open and a voice cried shrilly:

"WE'RE LATE!" Connie said, looking thunderstruck. Vanilla rose with a start, falling out of his bed with a harsh thud.

"Whathuhwhat?" The blonde fumbled even in this simple sentence as his suddenly alerted mind slowly became aware of its surroundings. The uncomfortable hard wood floor became apparent and Vanilla quickly propped himself up to face the stark white Coriander.

"Come on, hurry! We're gonna miss the train!" She stuttered, her frazzled, hastily combed hair adding to her disheveled appearance. Vanilla suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to slap his still sleepy brow, as he remembered hazy visions of Basil and Marjoram urging him to get out of bed nearly an hour ago. Eyes flashed to the wall clock, it was quarter past 9!

"Ah crap!" Vanilla cursed as he shot up from the floor, and then nearly face planted as he felt the tangled bedsheets that had wrapped around his legs in his slumber.

"Just hurry up and get your stuff, we have to get moving!" Connie fretted, disappearing from the doorway and out of sight, leaving Vanilla alone just as he freed his entangled feet from the covers and hastily threw on his shoes. Not bothering with his tussled hair, which stuck out in wild clumps. He snatched his suitcase off the table near the corner, exiting the door in a hurry...

Only to return a moment later and snatch the medium sized pink box that sat near the night stand. Mumbling an insult towards himself, the blonde once more hurried out of the room.

Outside, the two loaded the Earl Grey II hurriedly and immediately took off for the Garland Station with great urgency. They arrived at least 10 minutes later, hopping out of the Earl and nearly knocking off several strangers as they rushed into the station building. They could hear the whistle blowing, signifying the train's approaching departure.

"Hey! Hold on!" Connie called out, waving to the others, who were heading for the terminal up the stairs at the far end of the building.

"There you two are." Marjoram said with relief, clearly having been worried about their whereabouts.

"You guys are late!" Basil grumbled, clearly exhaustion detracting any of his usual cheeriness.

"Hmm, you two stuck in bed or something?" Savory coyly remarked, which momentarily left Vanilla red in the face and Connie letting out a hushed squeal of irritation.

"Don't joke like that!" She huffed, glancing around to make sure no one had picked up on their conversation.

"Anyway..." Marjoram cut in, "I think we can continue with the joking, on the train." He firmly said, then called over to the station master.

"Excuse me, but we have one more trotmobile that needs to be loaded for the Neuhafen train." He explained, which left the man frowning deeply.

"Are you crazy? We're packed full as it is. We don't have time to load up anymore, I'm sorry." The man explained rather abruptly, trying to be formal despite the impatience in his tone. And with that, he turned away and marched off.

"Well it looks like you're going on foot." Basil murmured. Marjoram slumped his shoulders heavily, at a loss.

"I have to agree, it looks like you'll have to take the long way, Vanilla." He said, then turned as the whistle blew one more time. "But someone will have to go with him, since he doesn't know the way."

Connie then piped in, "I'll go. I'm just as much at fault for sleeping in, too." She said. They then departed, with the others boarding the train while Vanilla and Connie returned to the Earl.

"You know, you didn't have to do this for me." Vanilla said as Connie guided him along the street that passed the Arena, feeling a little guilty for making Connie have to accompany him. But the brunette simply grinned, "That's alright. It just didn't seem fair to make you go it alone." A warm smile that made Vanilla feel anything but lonely.

They came out of the gate and into an enclosed area formed by the outer walls of the city and the fenced sluice to the left. A paved road winded from the exit towards an open passage carved into the mountain. A signpost near them read:

_Skylark Farms_

Vanilla guided the Earl towards the passage, navigating the winding "S" shaped path. It appeared to have once been a tunnel, it's roof having long since given way, exposing a mesh of plants and the very sky above. At the far end, Vanilla and Connie arrived at a tall hill. At the base of the hill was a river that came around from the left and to the right, where it followed along the nearby train tracks and into the distance. And straight ahead, was Skylark farms.

Skylark, considered the nations largest agricultural source. The dozens upon dozens of rolling wheat fields were it's main crop. Windmills could seen all over, spinning endless and silently like a serene vision of tranquility. Crossing a small bridge at the foot of the hill, Vanilla and Connie trekked along the beaten paths that crisscrossed through the numerous fields. A gentle wind was blowing, making the light green rows of wheat lapse like the waves of the ocean.

"It's so peaceful..." Connie mused, leaning casually out the side to take in the sights of the countryside. While there was an allure to the lights and sounds of the city, there was always something about nature, unspoiled by modernization, that made her feel at peace. Vanilla felt the same, a sense of peace as he passed by a small line of trees. Even the noon sky lent to a glorious feeling of ease in this small countryside.

_Pwip_

The crumpling of something light and stiff hitting Vanilla's head broke him from his reverie. A small object fell into his lap, and he stared down at what appeared to be a paper toy of sorts. "Strange..." The blonde thought out loud as he stopped the trotmobile to look at the toy closely.

"HEY!" A small voice called out, and Connie pointed over towards the farm, where a boy waved excitedly near the windmill that sat on the edge of the ranch. Waving back, Vanilla made his way over the farm's entrance, stopping short of the opening in the old wooden fence.

There three structures in the enclosed area, a large house in the north west corner, with a feed tower across from it, and another, smaller house near the southeast corner where Vanilla had just parked. A boy in a green shirt and gray shorts ran up to greet the duo as they disembarked from the Earl.

"I take it this is yours." Vanilla jokingly remarked as he held out the paper dragonfly, which the boy happily accepted.

"Thanks, mister." The boy said gratefully, checking the toy for any bends or tears before looking up again, "Hey, have you by any chance heard of Vision ranch?" He asked longingly.

"Yea I've been there." Vanilla answered.

"Really?" The boy sounded impressed, then begin fishing through one of the pockets of his gray shorts. Producing an envelope, he turned to Vanilla once more, "Do you think you could deliver this letter for me? It's for a friend named Eric, he lives at the ranch."

"Sure, I'll try to head by that way as soon as I can." Vanilla said, accepting the letter without hesitation. Inwardly, Vanilla remarked how he was starting to feel like some kind of postman, handling letters. But he shrugged the feeling off, it was the nice thing to do.

"Excuse me?" Another voice chimed in, and all three turned to see a young woman with blonde pig tails, a green blouse, and a long red skirt approaching. She appeared to be about the same age as Connie and Vanilla, but her face and physical build made it clear she had worked in the fields.

"Pete, I think pa wishes to speak to you." The girl said politely, leaning forward slightly to speak with the boy, her brother. Pete nodded and headed for the large house at the far end of the fence line.

"I apologize for this interruption, but might you two be heading to Neuhafen?" The girl asked, then frowned slightly, "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; My name is Aloe." She corrected the harmless greeting error with a smile.

"Actually, yes we are there. We're meeting with some friends of ours." Connie answered, shaking hands and then introducing herself and Vanilla. Aloe seemed hesitant at first, then spoke, "I was afraid of that..." She said quietly.

"Why? What's wrong?" Vanilla inquired, feeling as though it were another problem coming his way.

"For the last week or so, a man with a red trotmobile has been harassing me. You see, he's gotten it into his head that we're somehow soul mates. And I've tried to let him down gently, yet he doesn't seem to listen." Aloe explained, clearly embarrassed by this issue.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Connie said, "Is there anything we can do?"

"I didn't want to have to resort to this, having to ask others to help me. But now he's began blocking the way to Neuhafen, chasing off anyone who gets near." Connie cupped her mouth as she heard this, wondering what kind of selfish monster would do such a thing.

"Then we'll help. We have to get to town ourselves anyway." Vanilla said firmly, not needing to hear anything else on the matter. Aloe lit up, clasping her hands together.

"That's great. I'll come with you, I have to tell this man off myself." Aloe then made her way to a farming trotmobile that sat under a wooden stall near the windmill. "This way, he's by the gate." She said as she piloted the single seated copper trot off the ranch, with Vanilla and Connie following closely behind.

After a 20 minute trek, they came upon a large gate, which guarded a wooden bridge that passed over the river. There, they could see a familiar looking red trotmobile.

"Is that you, Aloe?" That same cocky voice called out, and the red bull trotmobile belonging to Dudley turned around. The brawny man with the gray colored skull shirt took one look at Vanilla and immediately twitched. "Hey, you're that sissy boy I smacked around at Fort Raven."

"You've met before?" Aloe whispered over to Vanilla, "Unfortunately..." The youth answered.

"Hey, what you doing hanging 'round my Aloe?" Dudley asked, looking ready to lash out in defense. But Aloe slammed her hands on the hub of the farming trot.

"Dudley! This has to stop. I've told you before, I just don't feel that way about you. So please, just stop and leave my family be." Aloe said firmly, unleashing her pent up frustration upon the dullard in the monstrous trot.

"I..I...but we..." Dudley tried to began, but saw the determined look in Aloe's face. Instantly his face lit up to match his trotmobiles color scheme, and his fists began pounding at the top of his machine.

"Dammit!" He shouted, raging curdling inside of him like an inferno. He then locked eyes with Vanilla, like an angry hornet, "This is all your fault, you wuss! You scrawny little bag of barf!" Aloe just barely pulled away as Dudley came roaring toward the three of them. However, unlike their first encounter, Vanilla was ready to side-step the charge attack.

"Stay back." He called out to Aloe, who nodded and ran back towards the wheat fields. Dudley growled and raised his spike-ball, firing at the Earl's left leg. But Vanilla countered with a sharped dash to the left and sliced at the chain with his sword. The disconnected ball tumbled across the ground with a clinging sound as the broken links clattered to the ground unceremoniously.

"Humph, it looks like you've finally got some spunk." Dudley remarked, forgetting his temper slightly as he regarded the now useless left arm frame. He then dove forward with the trident, a pivot system making the tip move like a jack hammer. Vanilla parried with the sword, the tip of the blade wedging into the fork.

"Just stop it, Dudley. Why can't you let this go?" Vanilla asked, bearing his teeth as he struggled to keep the Earl's arm from falling off. The grinding of the locked weapons threatened to end with one of them losing that arm.

"Just shut up and fight!" Dudley thundered, Connie and Aloe both flinching at his ferocity. The two broke the duel lock and pulled back. Only 20 feet of earth separated them, and Dudley wasn't gonna wait for the next move.

Throwing back both arms, he reared up with the horns, readying to gore Vanilla's trotmobile just as before. Connie closed her eyes and ducked down, while Vanilla brought up the stage arm and steadied himself. The ear splitting screech of grinding metal pierced the air as the bull horns scrapped across the smooth surface of the shield like arm. Putting leverage into the arm, Vanilla threw Dudley off of him, making a swipe with the sword. But the blade only met empty air as the muscle bound moron back peddled.

"Argh!" He growled once more, slamming his fists on the dashboard. "You know what? Forget this! I'm out of here." Dudley said with a sharp and dismissive wave, then charged off down the road that ran along the river. Vanilla sighed with relief, pleased to see his first major battle after being trained by Ginger had paid off.

"Thank you, again." Aloe came forward, looking gracious. "I'm sorry I had to put you through that." She added, slightly downcast.

"It's alright. We kinda had a bone to pick with that knucklehead ourselves." Vanilla said, looking to Connie with a confident grin. He then made his way to the gate, waving back. "Take care!" Connie leaned back and waved.

"Now those two, I can see working well together." Aloe mused, giggling lightly to herself as she herself returned to the farm.

"You were amazing back there." Connie lavished Vanilla with praise. "Seriously, it's like you're a whole new fighter."

"Ah, it was nothing." Vanilla boasted, enjoying the brief limelight, especially since it was Connie shining it. "Dudley was a punk anyway." He added, and the two shared a laugh. They crossed a small islet between the wooden bridge, and a short stone one that built over where the river forked. Finally, they were facing the fortified walls of the third city.

Neuhafen, the port city. Back in the day, it was a small fishing village, barely half the size of Nefroburg. But with rise of the economy, and the decline of Seagull beach as a fish spot, Neuhafen underwent a massive growth into a full fledged city and became the center of trade. Migrant workers, immigrants, and fishing were some of its key claims to fame.

"And here we are." Connie said as the gate opened and closed, placing them directly on a narrow, slanted street. To the left was the canal where the forked part of the river came under the walls and flowed into the Western part of the city. To the right was the small train station, where the recently arrived locomotive sat like a slumbering iron beast.

"I guess the others already left for the motel." Connie thought, scanning the station as Vanilla brought to the end of the street. Directly past the station was a dirt road that led to the port district, where the majority of fishing, trading, and boating took place. While the main road itself immediately turned sharply to the left over a bridge to the central district.

"From I remember Marjoram saying, the _Blue Marine_ is located near the center of the shopping district." Connie explained, trying to recall the directions Marjoram had given her last night. As they made their way to the central district, the gentle salty breeze and cries of seagulls played out a like a familiar tune.

"Certainly takes you back, huh?" Vanilla said as they coasting along the street, looking for the sign of the motel. Connie nodded, a pleasant smile on her lips.

"Mhmm, the sea is quite magical. It's what brought us together, after all." She said with a deep look on her face. "Who knows, maybe it might even lead us to a clue about your past." She mused, to which Vanilla grinned. "Maybe." He echoed.

"There it is!" Connie said, spotting the Blue Marine, a tall building that sat between a series of apartments and the nearby shopping district. The main entrance faced the road, with the parking lot directly left of it when coming to the doors.

"Come on, let's go. The others are probably waiting." Connie said as she grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, Vanilla following behind as he covertly retrieved the pink box and tucked it under his shoulder. Inside the lobby, Marjoram and the others could be seen near the concierge, who was handing out two sets of keys.

"Hey, we're here!" Connie called over to her friends and ran up to greet them.

"Wow, I'd have thought you guys would be cutting it close like last time." Basil joked, prompting Vanilla to shrug and roll his eyes.

"Unless they had other reasons for almost being late." Savory coyly smiled, prompting Connie to stamp her feet and frown at the older woman.

"I told you to stop saying things like that!" She struggled to keep her outburst down to a dull roar so as not to draw attention. Savory just chuckled with that ever knowing look of hers.

"Anyway." Marjoram cut in, "We should probably get ready to head for Strand Pier so we can get set up."

"But wait, I still haven't gotten a dress to wear." Connie said, then looked to Savory, "Did you bring any extra dresses I could try?" She asked, but Savory shook her head. Vanilla perked up as he heard this, and suddenly a fluttering feeling overcome him without warning.

"I'm sorry, Connie. I checked my suitcase and all my stuff probably wouldn't fit right." The tall blonde said, looking deeply apologetic. The fluttering inside Vanilla got more intense.

"Oh no! What am I gonna do?" Connie panicked. "I can't show up without a dress, it would be rude." Gulping back on nothing, Vanilla fought off the intense fluttering sensation long enough to speak up.

"Um, actually... I.." He began to say, drawing everybody's attention squarely to him. The sensation was threatening to come back tenfold. It was the damnedest thing, he had felt so confident, so ready when he purchased the dress. But now...

"I-I got this, for you." Vanilla finally managed to say, holding out the box to Connie.

"For me?" The girl asked, almost mystified by this sudden gesture. Ignoring a certain _someone's_ giggle, Connie undid the bow on the box and opened it. A whispered gasp left her lips as she pulled out an expensive looking pink dress, the very same Vanilla had spotted not long ago.

"Oh my gosh... It's so beautiful." Connie was at a loss for words as she held the dress before her. She looked past it to Vanilla, her expression still one of great surprise and awe, "Did you really get this, for me?" She once more asked. Nodding sheepishly, a whirlwind of sensations twisting around inside his stomach, Vanilla anxiously awaited the response.

"Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you so very much!" Connie said, clasping onto Vanilla in a deep hug. If physics were to take a break, Vanilla was certain he'd have melted like butter right that instant. "Your welcome, Connie." Vanilla said, basking in the moment.

"Now that's out of the way, we'd better get ready." Marjoram once more assumed the voice of reason. The group retired to their rooms to change. A moment later, the boys returned to the lobby, both Marjoram and Basil wearing black suits, and Vanilla his white tuxedo. Savory appeared shortly after, wearing her violet gown and a pair of shimmering diamond earrings.

"Come on, Connie, we need to go." Savory called up the steps, and the sound of footsteps could be heard in response. Emerging onto the landing of the stairwell, was Connie.

"How do I look?" She asked sweetly, looking down at the others near the landing with a bright smile.

Vanilla almost felt his heart skip a beat as he gazed up the transformed Coriander. The dress flowed from her delicate frame like an angelic gown, while her ponytail had been redone in a bun.

"Jaw dropping, from the looks of it." Savory chuckled as she glanced at Vanilla, who blushed nervously while Connie giggled.

Soon after, the band left the Blue Marine in their trotmobiles, and made their way to _Strand Pier_, located at the western edge of the town. A long pier, which served both cruise lines and immigration ships, today, a large yacht occupied it's dock.

The S.S West Wind, a beautiful ship made of dark green, with golden trimming and rails. The deck alone had to be at least 30 feet long, perfect for festivities, while the upper deck held the massive mast like towering giant. An eloquent set of stairs next to a loading elevator allowed access to the vessel.

"Don't worry about bringing your trotmobile on-board, Vanilla. Turns out our three should be enough for the performance." Marjoram informed the blonde youth as they entered the pier. Nodding, Vanilla and Connie parked the Earl Grey II near the entrance, and followed behind the others as they boarded via the lift one at a time.

On deck, the trio of trots were set up in stage mode near the bow, while tables occupied the rest of the deck. A crew of workers helped set up the instruments, including a piano for Savory, as well as tall lights for the stage. Soon the preparations were finished.

And just in time, too. The lift activated, and brought up three people, consisting of two men and a young woman. One of the men was an older gentlemen in a wheelchair, dressed in a business suit with a sleeveless vest and had several large rings adorned with bright stones on his fingers. Despite his wrinkled countenance, the man possessed an aura of authority. His bushy eyebrows and mustache gave him a harsh, yet kind look.

Clearing his throat, the old man began to speak with a thick, wheezing accent, "Oh my, the Garland Globetrotters. Thank you for coming." He greeted the gang.

"Thank you for inviting us, Don Puccini, sir." Marjoram and the others gave a curt bow to the old man, who chuckled and held up a hand, "No, thank you. Everyone in town has been looking forward to this occasion for some time." Don Puccini grinned, turning to look to the brunette who held his chair. "Especially my granddaughter, Claris."

"It is an honor to meet you all." The young woman bowed, curtsying with her long blue dress.

"I would also like to introduce my young _associate_, Jake." Don Puccini added, gesturing to one of the men beside him. Stepping forward, a slick looking fellow with blonde hair done up in a pompadour and wearing a white suit nodded. "I am expecting a flawless performance." Don Puccini started, before having Claris turn him away, "The guests should be arriving soon. Please, enjoy our buffet, the meal is on me. Once everyone is aboard, we'll set sail." And with that, the old man was wheeled away.

"He's certainly interesting." Basil said after a moment. The others nodded in agreement.

"Don Puccini is said to be one of the oldest figureheads of Neuhafen. Some even say he organized the first trotmobile battle tournament and made it into a pastime." Marjoram said, giving a little insight for the others.

"_Organized_ certainly describes him, I'll say." Basil murmured, but was hushed by Savory.

At around 2, guests began to arrive, all dressed fancily. As they boarded, Vanilla and the others quietly practiced independently, setting the mood as the guests mingled and settled at their tables. Once it appeared everyone was on board, the ship left the pier, drifting out to sea at a leisurely pace.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." Don Puccini finally addressed the guests as the ship sailed across the sparkling blue sea. "I thank each and everyone one of you for attending the first voyage my newest ship, the West Wind. Tonight, we have a special guest, the Garland Globetrotters!" The audience exploded into applause as the gang took a bow from the stage. After the introduction, they began to play.

Vanilla could feel the excitement as they opened with _I Cry_, the crowd cheering and clapping as the stirred their hearts. Just as before, he felt one with the others as they played, a powerful harmony that poured from every note of their music. Though he always a little out of place with his harmonica, he played with just as much vigor and soul as Savory did her piano, or Marjoram with his saxophone.

They finished to a round of applause that lasted over a minute. Even Don Puccini vigorously clapped his hands, crying a raspy "Bravo, Bravo!"

"Who's up for the next song?" Connie asked, smiling as she knew all too well that question didn't need to be asked. Marjoram returned the sax to it's case, then settled behind his drum set. Seeing the readied nods of the group, Connie smiled brighter.

_In Your Voice_ began with that mystifying opening chord, like an enchanting flute song. And as always, Connie's passion as she sung shone through, made all the more angelic by her new dress. Vanilla could not help himself as he stole glances at the lovely songstress, simply mesmerized by her appearance.

_Because the fire is, right there, in your voice! Listen to it. Oh listen to it!_

No matter how many times he heard that part of the song, it always struck Vanilla as an enchanting line; one that made his heart soar, uplifting his spirit. Of course, he always felt this whenever he was around Connie.

_'She really is something'_ He thought to himself as the song eventually came to a close, the audience once more giving a standing ovation. The group bowed, soaking up the praise from the still cheering crowd. Once the applause died down, the band left the stage.

"Fantabulous! I expected nothing less of you." Don Puccini said, Claris bringing to the foot of the stage.

"Thank you, sir. It was fun, getting to perform on a ship." Connie said, bowing lightly before the old man.

"Of course of course. And I must thank you all again for coming. Remember, you're free to perform here, or even at my arena any time you wish." Puccini said, a lively tone in his wheezing voice. "Please, enjoy yourselves for the rest of the cruise." And as on cue, a musicians quartet took to the stage, who began to play softly as the guests began to mingle once more.

"We will." Marjoram smiled, the Don then pardoning himself as he returned to his spot near the buffet. "Looks like we have the rest of the cruise to enjoy ourselves. Great performance, everybody." The portly drummer gave the thumbs up before excusing himself to head for the buffet.

"I wonder what kind of wine they're serving." Savory thought aloud, heading to the buffet as well. Basil followed after, "Hey, Savory, wait!"

"That was so much fun!" Connie said to Vanilla as they strolled over to the port side, enjoying the sparkling water, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. "You were great today." She added, sighing contently as she stared out in the shimmering sea. The ship slowly began to return to the pier, at a gentle pace.

"Ah, I was just the same as always. Now you guys, you were amazing, Connie." Vanilla said, shrugging off the compliment. He knew he couldn't possibly hold a candle to the rest of the group, being the newcomer and all.

Connie giggled and gave Vanilla a playful shove, "Oh don't sell yourself so short. You're a real pro with that harmonica. I'm glad we have you in the group." She said sincerely, then looked up to the sky, staring at the purple and bluish clouds that drift above. "I want to thank you again, for the dress I mean."

"Don't mention it. Besides, I should be the one thanking you." Vanilla started, feeling another flutter in his heart. "You've done so much for me: Helping me when you found me on the beach, showing me to Dr. Nutmeg, allowing me to join the band." The blonde felt the fluttering getting more intense, "Thanks, Connie. I really owe you so much." He said, locking eyes with the girl.

"Well, you're very much welcome." Connie beamed brightly, then turned her slightly as the musicians began a slow song. "Oh, this sounds like a really good song." She said, turning back to face the youth. She then held out her hand, "Care to dance?" She asked.

"But I don't know how to dance. At least, I don't know if I ever did." Vanilla said with a nervous shrug, but Connie clicked her tongue and reached for his left hand. "Then I'll show you." She said as she pulled Vanilla to the center of the deck, where the tables had been moved to allow the guests to dance.

"It's really simple." She began, placing Vanilla's left hand on her right hip, and holding his right hand with her left. As she did this, Vanilla instantly felt the fluttering become a full on tornado. This was the closest he had ever been to her, barring all the times he had shielded her from harm during a fierce battle. Immediately his face felt hot and flushed, as though he had been under the sun for hours.

"Just relax." Connie said, sensing the boy's unease. She then began to lead, swaying her hips gently in tune with the music and softly showing Vanilla how to move his feet. Soon the boy began to get the hang of it, his discomfort fading. "See? Now you're getting it!" They kept dancing, Connie occasionally showing how to do simple twirls and even a swing, the two silently laughing as they became enthralled by their routine.

Finally, the song ended, and the two simply stood facing each other, only slightly out of breath. The guests were applauding, except for the two as they remained still, eyes locked. Time seemed to slow down, even as the musicians began to play another song. Slowly, the two began to lean inwards, their faces getting closer. Lips parted, only mere inches apart...

"Excuse me?" A voice called, followed by a gentle tap on Vanilla's shoulder. Instantly the trance was broken, and the two broke away, suddenly overcome by embarrassment. Turning abruptly, Vanilla came face to face with Jake, Don Puccini's right-hand man.

"Y-yes?" Vanilla asked, feeling like a child who had been caught red handed with the opened cookie jar.

"You mind if I had a word with ya?" The slyly dressed man asked.

"Um, no? I mean, yes... uh, sure." Vanilla stuttered, then turned to Connie who seemed equally flustered. Her cheeks were bright red, far more than any of the times Savory had teased her.

"I-I think I see Savory trying to call to me." She stammered, and left in a hurry, leaving Vanilla with Jake. At once, Vanilla felt both frustrated, and confused. Were they really going to-

"Hey! Pal, you listenin'?" Jake whistled and snapped his fingers to get the youth's attention.

"I'm sorry. You wanted something?" Vanilla asked, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Jake held up a hand, and looked around, then motioned for Vanilla to follow him. They walked around the port side by the superstructure, away from all the guests. Already the sun had set, and the sky was cast over with a dark blue hue. The South Wind was readying to dock soon.

"I've heard rumors about you. You're that kid who done beat the Killer Elephants, and those mooks in the Quail Tunnels." The man started off, almost accusingly.

"Yea... so what?" Vanilla questioned, already starting to feel uncertain about agreeing to this suspicious meeting. "I've got a little _proposal_ for you, so just hear me out for a minute, okay?"

"What is it?" Vanilla asked flatly, cutting to the chase.

"I want you to take part in a trotmobile battle. You're practically famous, so people will bet on you, especially when you're opponent is a complete _wuss_. That's where I come in, I bet against you is _take a dive_." It suddenly clicked together.

"You want me to throw a fight?" Vanilla was appalled by the notion. Jake frantically waved his hands and motioned for the youth to quiet down.

"Don't freak on me like that. I wouldn't be shouting like if I was you." Jake hissed, looking around to make sure no one had heard them. Vanilla fell silent at this, "What do you mean?"

"I guess I was mistaken to call it a 'proposal'. This is more of a, how do you say, _ultimatum_: Either you do this, or else, your friends ain't gonna be leaving this town alive." Jake coldly relayed the words to Vanilla, his eyes narrowing.

Vanilla instantly felt dread washing over him. He quickly looked over towards the buffet, where the others were talking. Nothing seemed strange, but then he noticed a brawny looking man, one of Puccini's guards also eyeing the group. Turning back to Jake, the youth knew this wasn't some rouse.

"Are you from the Bloody Mantis?" Vanilla whispered.

"The Bloody who now? I got no clue what you're talking about." Jake said, quirking his brow and shrugging off the question.

"So you're not one of them." Vanilla was relieved, but still uncertain of Jake's bluff.

"Whatever. Listen, Puccini is a cheapskate. While he's livin' it large, we're paid less than peanut. So you lose, and we're rich. And as a bonus, we make the old geezer look like a chump." Jake laughed, reveling in his sordid little 'scheme'. Vanilla balled his fists, furious at being played around like this.

"Forget it. There's no way in hell I'd do something that." He said, ready to make a run for it.

"Need I remind you? You don't have a choice here, kid." Jake icily said, nodding towards the buffet where the group was still talking away. Jake leaned in closer, "You'll end up doing it either way. There's not a choice here." Vanilla sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Good. Head for the arena by the docks." Jake began, pointing north towards a large warehouse building that had a lit roof. "Just speak with the receptionist, and then _lose_. A draw gets us squat, remember that. I'll be waiting, kid." As he finished, the ship's horn sounded, signifying that the ship had docked and was safe to disembark. With a wave, Jake left the ship.

"Bastard..." Vanilla growled, anger building up as he watched the smug faced man walking down the pier.

"Vanilla? Is everything ok?" He heard Connie's voice, and turned to see her with the others approaching.

"Oh, uh... yea. I'm fine." Vanilla said, looking around to see if that scary guard was still around. He was, by the elevator.

"What did that Jake guy want?" Connie asked.

"Ah, it was nothing." Vanilla began with a slight stutter. "He just wanted to ask about my trotmobile... yea, that's it." He lied, really wanting to slap himself for making such a crappy fib.

"Well anyway, we were planning on heading back to the hotel. Are you coming as well?" Connie asked, looking a little worried by the youth's sudden behavior.

"You guys go on ahead. I thought maybe I might, you know, look around town and what not." Vanilla said, edging himself to the stairs. "I promise I won't stay out too late." He hastily added, halfway down the steps. "See ya!"

"Vanilla..." Connie whispered as she watched the boy racing towards his parked trotmobile. At the same time, the large bodyguard silently observed as well.

#

The port district, located next to the train station, was the lifeblood of Neuhafen. Six buildings, three set to both sides of the dirt road entrance, was where the dock workers lived, ate, and spent their lives. The road turned at a 75 degree angle northwest, making it the most northward point of the entire city.

To the left, past the three buildings facing the shopping district were the docks, where ships and other sailing vessels sat bobbing in the bay. While on the right, three large warehouses, numbered 1-3. The one marked as '3' was the service station for the railroad, and beside it sat a lonely little shack that was surrounded by fencing that blocked it off from the tracks near it.

At the far end of the road was the Neuhafen arena, the largest structure in the entire district. In the old days, it was just a simple winery, said to be the first business owned by Don Puccini in his youth. With the rising popularity of Trotmobile battling, he had the front most section of the building refitted into a bar and arena, making it into an entertainment center for the entire city. The loading doors now served as the entrance for fighters, while two sets of stairs to either side led to the bar on the second floor.

Though Jake had not set a time limit, Vanilla knew he couldn't risk dawdling. Inside, he see the arena was just as distinct as the last two. A large, octagonal ring was located in the center of the large two floor room. Two sliding gates allowed for access, while the rest of the area beyond the ring was walled off, likely where the wine factory was. On the floor above was the bar, where the clamor of mugs and drunken singing of patrons carried on like a timeless tune.

To the left was a maintenance table and a lone mechanic, while the parking stations for fighters were situated front of the octagon. At the far right was the reception desk, and next to it was a set of spiral steps that led to the bar. A window could be seen on the other side of the fenced ring, likely a private observation room for VIPs and special guests.

"Glad you _decided_ to make it." Jake 'greeted' Vanilla as the blonde parked near the entrance. "Just head for the reception, I already took care of the other arrangements for this evening's fight." He whispered, Vanilla doing all he could to resist lashing out at the man. Vanilla begrudgingly did as told, approaching the receptionist who greeted him.

"Ah, you must be the other gladiator for tonight. Take your time to make any necessary changes to your trotmobile, then wait at the ring gate near the maintenance station." The woman instructed with a professional smile. Vanilla nodded quietly and turned to leave, only to bump into someone.

"Ouch!" He heard a voice say, and looked down to see none other than Jimmy, yes, _THAT_ Jimmy. The meek looking young man with the black coat and goggle sat upright as he recovered from being knocked over.

"Jimmy?"

"Oh, hey, Vanilla." Jimmy said in his usual, unenthusiastic tone. "Didn't expect to run into you again."

"Me neither." Vanilla deadpanned.

"Yea, I came out this way after Dudley beat me up in Fort Raven. I figured since Neuhafen was far away, no one would know who I was. But then I met Don Puccini, and he's been really nice to me." Jimmy explained, Vanilla listening with mild interest.

"He certainly seems like a nice man." Vanilla said.

"Yea. And certainly not as _oddball_ as Dino." At this the two chuckled greatly, something they could agree on.

"So what brings you out this way? Last I recall, you were heading to Happy Garland."

"I was asked to take part in a fight here tonight." Vanilla explained, leaving out the other details for obvious reasons.

"Really? You're the one I'm going up against?" Jimmy asked with a shocked look. Vanilla was surprised as well, then recalled Jake's words about his opponent being a '_total wuss_'.

"I guess so." Vanilla answered, not sure whether to feel bad or just more concerned. It wasn't that he hated Jimmy, even if the kid was a bit grating to speak to. But there was just something about his dour attitude that made it hard to take him seriously in any respectable manner. "Good luck then." He shook Jimmy's hand as he once more made his way to the Earl Grey.

"S-s-same to you." Jimmy muttered as he hopped into his small, basic looking green trotmobile. Vanilla breathed one last disheartened sigh as he fired up the Earl and lined up for the entrance. On the floor above, he could see the audience gathering around the octagon in anticipation of the coming battle.

"Good evening everyone." A perky ring girl greeted the roaring crowd. Vanilla drowned out everything, all he could think of was the shameful of throwing a fight as the ring girl introduced Jimmy and him to the crowd, most of which were sailors on leave. Finally a starting pistol was fired, and the "fight" began.

Jimmy began dashing around, trying to flank Vanilla. However, the erratic spurts of speed were clumsy, with Jimmy hardly moving out of sight fast enough for Vanilla to follow. '_Does he even know what he's doing?_' Vanilla thought to himself, shifting around to keep track of Jimmy. He had to make it look realistic, he figured. He took a swing with the stage arm, albeit with as little force as possible. The false blow barely connected, yet sent the errant Nefroburg gladiator almost spiraling into the fencing.

_'I hardly even touched _him.' Vanilla watched as Jimmy "retaliated" with a succession of weak blows that proved amusingly easy to block. '_Is he really that pathetic? Even I wasn't this timid to fight._' He continued to think as Jimmy switched back to his spastic dashing. It was almost embarrassing to watch, Jimmy had clearly lacked confidence in his speech, but this was just plain laughable. '_I can't do this. I can't throw a fight to him. If I did, I'd be wrongfully giving him hope in his capabilities. Not only that, if word of the fix got out, he might get accused of being part of it._' His hands tightened on the control wheel, he couldn't do it. Though the risk was high, he couldn't live with himself if he gave false hope to someone, only for it to bite back at them in the end.

"I'll stop Jake, if it's the last thing I do." He reassured himself, then took off after Jimmy, who had momentarily ceased dashing to try and use one of the many empty barrels littering the arena. Jimmy was completely unprepared for the swing of Vanilla's sword, which cleanly shattered the barrel and both of his arm frames. Vanilla then finished with a pick up and slam maneuver that left the legs of Jimmy's trot completely smashed.

"And we have a winner!" The ring girl's voice called out as a horn sounded the end of the battle. Leaving the octagon, Vanilla parked near the reception area and hopped out the Earl, and into the grip of Jake who nearly threw the youth into the wall by the spiral steps.

"You little punk! I thought I made it crystal; you weren't supposed to win." Jake snarled as he glared daggers at Vanilla. "As if I'd stooped to your level." Vanilla growled back as he knocked away the man's hands.

"Oh yea? Well we'll see how your attitude fairs when I'm threw with your friends!"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" A voice called, one that made Jake flinched like a reproachful child. Don Puccini, accompanied by Claris, a police officer, and the burly guard approached. "Jake, haven't I taught you better than this?" Puccini sighed as he came face to face with the slickly dressed man.

"I..uh... Don..." Jake fumbled, trying to weasel his way out of this.

"Enough. I already know what you're doing, and how you tried to blackmail our guest here into taking part of your dirty dealings." Don Puccini sharply cut off the babbling man, "It's over Jake, you're plan is a bust." And with that, the police officer carted Jake off.

"You rotten old geezer! Dammit! This wasn't how it was gonna go down!"

Don Puccini ignored the cursing, then cleared his throat, "I apologize for that. I see now that I clearly misjudged Jake, and for that I'm sorry that his callous behavior placed you in such a tight situation."

"What about the others, are they alright?" Vanilla asked, eager to find out.

"Yes yes, they are all fine. In fact, they were never in any danger to begin with." Puccini explained.

"Wait, so Jake was bluffing?" Vanilla asked. Had he really been made a fool of?

"Not exactly. Bruno, my bodyguard was the one who tipped me off." Don Puccini gestured to the large man, who quietly wave. "He'd been having doubts about Jake for the last few months, and was keeping a close eye on him. During the cruise, he noticed Jake speaking to you, and then confirmed his suspicions with the Globetrotters. Turns out Jake had paid off another of my men to go after your friends, but we've already dealt with him."

"Ah... I'm so relieved." Vanilla breathed, then nodded graciously to the bodyguard. He wasn't bad after all, Jake had just been making empty threats.

"Yes, there's nothing to worry about. However, I would suggest that you and the Globetrotters remain in town for a few days until I can safely ensure that Jake doesn't any other cards up his sleeve." Puccini explained.

"Sure. Thanks again, sir." Vanilla said, bowing deeply. He was beyond joyful at the news that Connie and the others weren't in any danger.

"Of course." Don Puccini grinned and laughed, impressed by the youth's vigorous spirit.

"Hey, Vanilla." Jimmy called, jogging up from the maintenance station, where his broken trotmobile was being fixed.

"That was an amazing fight. You really have changed since you fought Dudley way back." He said, out of breath from both the jog and run on sentence.

"Thanks, you weren't half bad either, Jimmy." Vanilla replied, quite honest.

"You think so? Well... I guess I wasn't as bad as usual. Then again, most of the time people just smack me around before I can even move. But you, you were awesome!" Jimmy praised once more. "And somehow, I could tell you were really giving it your all. It seems like everyone who fights me just beats me down without mercy..."

"Well, I think you've got what it takes. You just need to be more assertive." Vanilla said, glad to see Jimmy being more energetic.

"I will. I'm done being such a loser. From now on, I want to be a strong fighter, like you." Jimmy said, making a rather overblown fist pump.

"Then how about you stick around and fight for me, kid?" Don Puccini cut in. "I could use raw talent like yours." He added.

"Wow, really?" Jimmy asked, shocked by the offer.

"Of course, I swear I'll make you into a fine champion." And before long, the two were off and away, deep in discussion. Vanilla left the arena, glad that everything had turned out for the better.

"I just hope Connie isn't mad about me going off like that." He thought to himself as he traversed the Port District. As he arrived at the junction to get back on the main street, something caught his attention. A young woman in a dress carrying a basket of flowers. However, what stood out to Vanilla was the parrot on her left shoulder.

"Wait a moment." He thought, then suddenly had a flash of memory. The woman from his first memory, the one on the ship near Seagull beach. He could now slightly recognize her, and the parrot that perched on her shoulder.

"Hey!" Vanilla called, abandoning the Earl hastily and following after the woman. However, she turned did not hear or seem to notice him as she turned a corner near the housing structure by the station.

"She's gone..." The youth thought out loud, spotting no sight of the woman as he reached the corner as well. Had he just imagined it?

"It's been a long day... I need a rest." He sighed, fatigue finally catching up to him. Yet, as he got back into the Earl and set off, he couldn't shake that nagging feeling he had seen someone from his past.

He had to find her. He had to find the flower girl with a parrot.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

As usual, I apologize for the long delay in chapters, again I got a bit lazy mid way in. But overall, I think things turned out nicely. The end was a bit tough to set up in my opinion, and I'm open to any suggestions for a better description set-up.

And look, I really teased with the Vanilla x Connie this time around. Yes, I'm being a bastard, so sue me! (Sticks tongue out). But I can assure that there will be more fun to be had with the two in due time.

I definitely enjoyed using Bobby Darren's _Beyond the sea_ as a title, as I felt it kinda fit with the current scenario. And as such, I'm more than welcome to any similarly named songs for chapter 14. Of course, any song name that can relate to a discovery or revelation of sorts would suffice as well. As always, please review, and stay tuned for the next installment! ^_^


	14. Session 14

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

I'm glad to see everybody's enjoying chapter 13 so much. I was a little uncertain if the minor romance would seem fitting yet or not. But it appears it worked out better than expected. Without spoiling much, I will say we'll see some drama as well in the near future. But hey, what's romance without some drama? We're certainly far in now, but if I had to guess, it will probably be at least another 12-16 chapters before we see the end. Meaning, we'll have plenty more adventures on this _bumpy_ journey of ours. (Throws on a pair of sunglasses... only to poke eye and fall off a dock)

_Chapter 14_ ~ _Try to Remember_

Golden rays shone through the skylights of the cozy little shop, the casement windows cracked at different angles to catch the gentle breeze that was passing through. The air had a salty scent to it, the ever present sound of the sparkling waters surrounding Neuhafen playing part to a summery melody.

"Thank you for your purchase." A tall woman cashier said as she accepted the UR handed to her by a blonde youth.

"You too." Vanilla beamed graciously as he picked up the small round box that was handed to him, which contained a lovely beach hat. The silky pink ribbon and finely woven straw made it a great, inexpensive gift. Not only that, Vanilla was very eager to give Connie another gift, seeing how happy the last one had made her. Just as he left through the screen door, he turned and looked to the cashier.

"Oh, by the way. Do you happen to know anything about a flower girl who lives in Neuhafen?"

"A flower girl?" The woman echoed, thoughtfully, "You must mean Ms. Cybil. Sorry, can't say I know where she lives. But you could try asking around the docks, that's where I hear she does most of her business."

"Thanks." Vanilla said, leaving the shop, strolling out into the sidewalk. Not a complete bust, he thought to himself.

The youth had spent all morning approaching bystanders and passersby alike questions about the mysterious flower girl he had seen last night. The familiar looking woman haunted his mind, leaving him barely able to get a full night's rest. Of course, his return to the hotel had been met with a rather tense confrontation from the others.

_"You're ok." Connie cried out as she spotted Vanilla entering the lobby, the others sitting on the lounge chair in the waiting area. The blonde youth felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs as the girl flung herself against his chest, holding onto him as though he would take flight any second._

_ "I was so worried." She said, pulling back after a moment. Vanilla chuckled inwardly, always impressed by the girl's caring nature. "I'm sorry, Connie." He said, calmly stroking Connie's hair._

After apologizing to the others, Vanilla explained the appearance of the flower girl, whom he believed with great certainty was connected to his past. Since Don Puccini still wanted to be sure no one else was in Jake's payroll, the group was stuck in town for at least another day. With nothing else to do, the others offered their help to find the mysterious woman.

Even with the aid of the band, the search proved just as difficult. The docks were the first hint Vanilla had procured all day, and he'd be damned if he was gonna let opportunity slip away. After dropping the box off in the Earl, Vanilla set off on foot for the docks. Unlike the night before, the area was busting with activity. Ships were coming and going, loaded and unloaded, busywork in the form of crate carrying and stacking.

"Excuse me?" Vanilla approached a brawny sailor wearing a blue bandana, striped shirt and worn gray slacks. Quirking a lazy eye from beneath a narrow brow, the man responded with a throaty, "What d'ya want?"

"I was curious, do you know about a flower girl who may live near by?" The youth asked, hopeful.

"Can't say I have. Though you could try asking at the bar in the arena, there's always a story or two to be found there." And with that, the sailor left, strutting off like a gorilla. Shrugging, Vanilla hoofed for the arena, trekking up the outside stairs near the gated entrance.

Inside, the air was thick with the aroma of beer and smoke. The combined smell was staggering, but Vanilla ignored his assaulted senses and looked around. As before, men and women were either gathered around the cage or sitting at the tables that dotted the open second floor of the building. A long wooden counter stretched from the spiral steps, around the corner and stopped only a few feet short of the open entrance Vanilla had come in from.

"Hello?" Vanilla called out over the cheers of the rowdy patrons, which nearly drowned out his voice like the crashing waves of a turbulent shore. He just barely caught the attention of a man who was humming to the drunken melody of fellow patrons as they swung their mugs in a sloppy rhythm.

"Aye, you need something, lad?" The man asked, then paused as he took a look at Vanilla closely. "It can't be." He said with growing recognition, "Vanilla! Yer alive!"

"Wait, do I know you?" Vanilla asked as the man stood up and shouted, "Hey guys, look! Vanilla's alive!" And soon several people crowded over to the table.

"Well I'll be."

"I thought he'd be shark chow."

"The captain'll be glad to hear about this."

"So wait, you guys know who I am?" Vanilla looked around as the sailor greeted him as though he were a long lost friend.

"Well of course we know ya, you were a part of our crew back on the Juniper Berry. Don't you remember?" The first man explained, sitting Vanilla down at the table as he spoke.

"Actually, no, I don't." Vanilla said solemnly, and explained his amnesia and briefly of his exploits.

"That's a shame. But it's good to know you're alright. The captain and Mallow both feared you were a goner when you didn't turn up on any of the rafts. And unfortunately we didn't have the time to check the shore for you." One of the sailors explained, the others nodding their heads.

"Wait, Mallow? Is he here?" Vanilla asked, hope rising as he wondered if this long journey was finally at its end.

"Sure is, he's staying with the captain, on account of the fact that he was in pretty bad shape the night of the incident." The first man explained, standing up. He walked towards the entrance, waving for Vanilla to follow, "They're in the shack over there, by the third warehouse."

"Thanks." Vanilla said, ready to take off from the stairs, then stopped. "Wait, I wanted to ask; do you know anything about a flower girl who works around here?"

"Flower girl?" The man repeated, thinking. Then a smirk spread across his lips. "I think you'll have your answer if you head for the shack." And retreated back into the bar, leaving a bewildered Vanilla.

"Odd." But it didn't matter, the flower girl could wait. He was finally going to meet Mallow, and hopefully, find out who he was himself. His heart swelled with anxiety and anticipation as he crossed the busy work road, possible concrete answers within grasp.

He entered the small enclosure of the fence line near the shack, taking note of a strangely familiar looking trotmobile sitting between the fence and shack. It looked like someone had replaced a standard body frame with what resembled a motorized boat, with a large propeller attachment on the back.

The fractured memories were there, of a woman piloting this trotmobile, and Mallow inside another. They were... practicing piloting... yes, that was it. They were at some kind of port, not unlike the one here in Neuhafen, but larger... more industrial.

"Excuse me? Is there something I can help you with?" A stern, womanly voice called out, snapping Vanilla from his reverie. Suddenly he realized he had been staring at the aquatic trotmobile for what must have been several moments.

Turning to greet the owner of the voice, he came face to face with none other than the flower girl herself. She wore an apron over a pink blouse and red dress, which seemed out of place on a woman of her mature appearance. But it wasn't only that, the parrot on her left shoulder and untied auburn hair belied a different nature...

"Wait a second... you're... Vanilla?" The woman gasped with astonishment, dropping the basket of daffodils she was carrying.

"You're... wait... I know you." Vanilla murmured, the woman's name just on the tip of his tongue.

"Oh, perhaps you don't recognize me in this dress." The woman said with a gesture to her outfit. "It's me, Captain Ciboulette."

Yes, I remember now! Vanilla recalled suddenly, the memory of the woman finally clearing in his mind. He could remember her ship, how she struck admiration (and fear) into the crew with an icy look from her piercing green eyes (the riding crop she often carried was also reason to not cross her).

"Captain Ciboulette?" A hushed voice echoed from the shack, followed by the door cracking open slightly to reveal a darkened figure. "Is everything all right?" The door opened further, revealing a raven haired boy, about the same age as Vanilla. His worn gray shirt and red slacks gave him the appearance of an off the clock businessman. A bandage was wrapped around his head, likely the result of an accident. He had a gloomy look to his round face, as though he were perpetually stuck in a bored or melancholy mood. However, as he caught sight of Vanilla, the gloomy expression lightened into one of joy.

"Vanilla! It is you!" The boy cried out as he threw the door opened with a look of joy, "I almost thought you were done for. It's great to see you're ok."

"You're-Mallow?" Vanilla asked, not entirely sure why he felt any doubt about who the boy standing before him was.

"Of course it's me." Mallow said with a forced chuckle, but he quickly noted the uncertainty in Vanilla's eyes, as though reading his thoughts like a book. He then asked cautiously, "Wait, are you feeling alright, Vanilla?"

"I have amnesia." Vanilla said, his somewhat casual tone seeming a bit odd, considering the condition he was identifying himself with. Both Mallow and Ciboulette exchanged looks of shock and concern. "It's alright, I have been able to recover a few of my memories." He said reassuringly, "Though only bits and pieces." He added quietly.

"Well then, it looks like we have a lot to catch up on." Ciboulette said, ushering the guys into the shack, away from prying eyes and ears. Inside, the shack seemed dreary, but not entirely unlivable. Stacks of old crates were piled near one corner, acting as a makeshift shelf. While more were placed around a large wooden spool that was used as a table. Near the window were three flower pots, growing more daffodils, some petunias, and azaleas.

Seating themselves at the table-spool, Ciboulette began, "It's amazing you survived the entire ordeal at all. We were afraid you had died." She started, clearly not one to mince words

"What happened exactly?" Vanilla asked, "All I know is when I woke up on the beach, there was a busted up looking ship not far from the shoreline."

"That was my ship, the Juniper Berry. As for what happened, it's difficult to explain." Ciboulette responded, then took a deep breath as she collected her thoughts, "It was a stormy night as we passed by Seagull beach, everyone was on edge as the whipping waves tried to smash us against the rocks. Suddenly, the engine room exploded, something had fired on us from the cliffs near the beach." She explained, and instantly Vanilla recalled the mysterious _Blue trotmobile_. But he decided to withhold this crucial fact until the story ended.

"The ship was starting to sink, and the crew was scrambling to gather anyone who may have been injured or still below deck. Suddenly, another attack hit the ship, sending you overboard." A chill ran through Vanilla as the recollection of that fateful night slowly returned to him. He was standing on the deck, looking around at the chaos around him, then being flung from the ship as it was rocked violently by a sudden blast. Then he was sinking, deeper and deeper into the inky dark waters. But that was as far as his memory would go, likely the very moment where he lost consciousness was beyond recovery, as was often the case with traumatic head injury.

"Mallow was seriously injured as well, and we were forced to flee while the storm raged on." Ciboulette concluded, eyes closed as she propped her head on her clasped hands. "So tell us, how did you make it out of there alive?"

"Well..." Vanilla began, cycling through his memory back to that fateful day, on seagull beach...

"I was passed out on a piece of flotsam, and a girl, named Connie was looking over me, having come to the beach to gather herbs for her mother." Mallow perked up, leaning forward across the table, "You mean Coriander? From Nefroburg?"

Vanilla nodded, expecting this reaction, "Yes, she found me unconscious and had checked me for injuries, thankfully the worst was just my head." He laughed, rubbing at his head reflexively. "However, when I tried to leave the beach, a strange blue trotmobile fired, nearly crushing us with a boulder."

"Wait, you mean someone deliberately attacked you?" Ciboulette asked, her stern expression cracking slightly.

"That seemed to be the case." Vanilla nodded, "And from you've said, it's probably fair to assume that it was the same person who attacked the ship."

"So, someone really is after us..." Mallow murmured with exasperation, looking paler than he already did. Vanilla nodded again, though less confidently. "All I know is that they're called the _Bloody Mantis_."

"You've heard about them?" Ciboulette cut in, surprise in her voice.

"Apparently they're looking for Mallow. They even sent bandits after me, thinking I was him." Vanilla said, recalling the incident in Sabbia. Mallow turned to Ciboulette, the two silently exchanging words before turning back to Vanilla.

"Looks like things are much more serious than we previously thought." Ciboulette remarked, maintaining her cool in light of this news. "We figured that the attack wasn't just some overzealous raiders, though we never thought it was this bad."

"I just wish I knew why they would want either of us." Vanilla thought aloud, then turned to Mallow. "Any idea?"

"No, none." The raven haired youth replied, looking just as pensive as before.

"Whatever the case is, we just have to play it careful." Ciboulette said decisively, planting a hand firmly on the table to direct attention to herself. "But enough talk of jumping at shadows, I'm sure you two have much to catch up on." She said, a genuine smile appearing on her lips. Vanilla had to resist laughing, but he remembered Captain Ciboulette wasn't entirely an ice queen, though it wasn't wise to admit to this to her, either.

"I don't know where to start..." The blonde said, there was quite a lot to talk about.

"Well why not tell us what you've been doing all this time." Mallow suggested, somewhat eagerly, "You mentioned meeting Connie, how about the others?"

Vanilla started out with the day he awoke on Seagull Beach, meeting Connie and the others, and how he helped stop the attack on Nefroburg.

"And to think when I gave you trotmobile lessons, you kept rotating in circles for five minutes because you couldn't figure out how the steering controls worked." Ciboulette mused, referring to the day she had given both boys a lesson in piloting.

Continuing, Vanilla spoke about the takeover, and subsequent liberation of Nefroburg from the Killer Elephants. Next he told about the trek through Sabbia, and meeting Nora of the Desert Hornets. The mix up of his identity, and finally his many escapades in Happy Garland. Before he knew it, it was mid-afternoon.

"I see, so you've seen my father." Mallow said, his voice slightly distant.

"Yes. And I heard about the incident. I guess I don't have to ask if it's true, huh?" Vanilla asked, seeing the dark haired boy look down. "No, it's all true. And I regret every moment of it." He finally spoke, quietly.

"I was sent to live with the family of one of my father's friends from his university days. He felt that I needed to lie low and take my time to sort things out, get my head together. For a while, I just couldn't open up to anyone and kept to myself." Mallow paused, his mind adrift in thought. "Then I met you, a kid from a neighboring house. And somehow, you convinced me that I didn't have to feel guilty forever." He looked up, his expression softening into a smile.

"That's why you were coming here, to finally seek forgiveness." Vanilla concluded, to which Mallow nodded. "Yes. You asked to come along, saying you had always wanted to travel the world. So we hitched a ride on Captain Ciboulette's ship, though it wasn't easy." Mallow chuckled, recalling the hassle of convincing the woman to let them aboard.

"And you're still lucky I didn't just tie you two to the figurehead." Ciboulette chimed in off-handedly, the two boys unable to tell if she was serious or not. She explained how the two tried to sneak into the harbor, only to be mistaken for trespassers and nearly get tossed out by Ciboulette's crew. It was only through Mallow's quick thinking that she relented and allowed them to tag along on the Juniper Berry.

"It was also when I lent you the pendant for safe keeping." Mallow added, pointing to the necklace around Vanilla's neck. "Then it's probably time I returned it." Vanilla chortled as he removed the pendant and held it out to Mallow. He had almost forgotten he even had it anymore.

"Thanks, I knew I made the right decision to entrust it to you. Of course, you always have been one to depend on."

"What kind of person was I, exactly?" Vanilla asked, finding it hard to phrase such a question. Mallow paused for a moment, thinking, then started.

"Pretty much the same as you are now; kind, well meaning, a bit nosy." Ciboulette had to suppress a knowing laugh at this. Vanilla shrugged, figuring it was accurate enough. He had always felt a strong desire to do well by others. Wasn't really sure why he'd be "nosy", but he allowed that to slide for now.

"And what about my family... what can you tell me about them?" The youth inquired, really eager to find out something about his parentage.

"Not much, I'm afraid." Mallow said, his voice sounding a little drawn out. "I only saw your mother once, and never had a chance to meet your dad. But you always spoke highly of them, how they encouraged you to do your best." He continued, only pausing to muffle a cough.

"Hmm, I think you should probably go get some rest, Mallow." Ciboulette was forced to cut in as she noticed the raven haired boy looking more and more winded. It became obvious to Vanilla that his previously enigmatic friend wasn't entirely recovered from his own injuries. Nodding without protest, Mallow turned, "Sorry, Vanilla. I wish I could have been more help."

"No, even if everything doesn't come back all at once, to at least have some idea now of who I am, that's all I need." The youth replied, though he couldn't deny the lack of returning memories left him wanting. Mallow then disappeared into a small bedroom across from where they sat, closing the door behind him.

"Don't worry, he just needs to rest a little. He was pretty banged up from the attack on the ship, and with our limited funds, we can't take him to Happy Garland." Ciboulette explained, seeing Vanilla's concern.

"Maybe I could help, I have saved quite a lot over these last few weeks." Vanilla said, a bit mildly. It wasn't really in him to flash his considerable funds, even if the intent was noble.

"That's kind of you. But I'm afraid we can't accept. If you're right about there being someone after Mallow and yourself, it might draw the wrong attention if we were to suddenly receive a lot of money like that." The tall woman said pointedly. Vanilla nodded understandingly, he hadn't considered that.

"I should at least inform his father, Sir John. He asked me to tell him anything I could find out about Mallow."

"That's understandable, but I would refrain from telling anyone else. We can't risk having the wrong people hearing that Mallow is living here." Ciboulette stood up and made her way for the door. "In the mean time, there's something I would like to ask you."

"Sure thing, what is it?" Vanilla asked, following behind.

"When you saw the ship, how damaged was it?"

Vanilla hadn't really thought about it much, but he tried to recall. "It looked like it wasn't completely sunken, actually I think it was caught on some rocks near the shore."

"Than maybe there is hope..." Ciboulette murmured to herself, thinking. "I know this isn't the most convenient thing to ask, but would you be willing to search the ship for my sailing license?"

"What's that?" Vanilla asked.

"It's a certificate that proves we're allowed to sail on open waters. Without it, even when the Juniper Berry II is completed, we wouldn't be allowed to set sail with her."

"I see." Vanilla listened, surprised that such a license was needed.

"So, will you do it? I can understand if you don't feel up for it." Ciboulette said, making it clear it was a request and not a demand.

"No, it's ok. But how will I reach the ship? The water looked pretty deep from where the ship was."

Ciboulette only need a second to think before opening the door and pointing to the trotmobile next to the shack. "You can use my trotmobile's water resistant body frame and the float."

"Are you sure that's all right?" Vanilla asked.

"It's quite fine. The parts you swap out will be stored at the garage for safe keeping and can even be shipped from town to town if you want them. Just promise me you'll try to retrieve the license as soon as possible. Otherwise it'd take forever to register for a new one." Ciboulette explained, making the severity of the issue clear.

"Sure, I'll do what I can." Vanilla swore as he turned to leave the enclosure, "Once I'm able to leave town, I'll return to get the parts."

"Take your time, and be careful, Vanilla." Ciboulette said, giving a salute as she watched the youth leave the area.

Vanilla returned to the Inn at a leisurely stroll, allowing himself time to review the last few hours that had transpired. Above all else, he was finally glad to have a solid idea of who he was before the amnesia. Though he was a little disappointed that he couldn't ask more questions. But for now, he felt content with having found answers to his many longstanding questions.

As he entered the Inn, he was once again greeted by the band near the lounge, all of whom looked fairly tired.

"So, have any luck?" Basil asked, sounding a bit hoarse. Knowing him, he had probably ran about town without taking his time to catch his breath.

"Actually..." Vanilla began, and told of his meeting with Ciboulette. However, he choose to omit finding Mallow, only confirming that he was indeed staying somewhere nearby. To have to lie like such wasn't easy for Vanilla, but he had promised that wouldn't reveal Mallow's location to anyone but his father.

"So, you've finally found out about your past?" Connie asked, looking hopeful. Nodding, Vanilla told about the few details he had learned. After finishing, the group sat in a circle, letting the news of the day's events sink in.

"It's good to see things finally turned out well for you." Marjoram said, his kind grin spreading across his face. "And speaking of good news, Don Puccini called a while ago and said that travel in and out of Neuhafen should be restored by early tomorrow morning."

"That's great." Vanilla was happy to hear this. It meant he could get on track with fulfilling Ciboulette's request sooner than expected.

Marjoram nodded and then continued, "For now our current tour is finished. The rest of us will probably be returning to Happy Garland soon for the break. So feel free to take your time and enjoy yourself."

"I was starting to feel like I needed a vacation." Vanilla mused, everyone sharing a good laugh. Later on around evening, Vanilla approached Connie, who was staring out one of the up stair windows at the night sky.

"Hey." He greeted casually, though he added a little suave to his tone. The girl turned, beaming with a cheery "Hello."

"I've got some errands I have to run soon. I was wondering if you'd like to come with."

"Sure, where to?"

"Seagull beach."

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Again, I apologize for the long delay, and the shortness of this chapter. Granted, since this was pretty wordy, I figured it works out being shorter than most of the entries. Aside from the usual distractions, I was having a little difficulty with this chapter. Mostly, I was torn between giving Vanilla a considerably beefy back story, and simply keeping it a little ambiguous so readers could still draw some of their interpretations, not unlike the game itself. I also wanted to play off of Vanilla only getting some vague details for a later plot point. There was also some trouble padding out the start so Vanilla wasn't bumping into Mallow after page 1, but I guess it turned out alright. That being said, I'm really eager to get insight on how whether everything played out well enough or could use adjusting to make the pace flow better. So please, don't be afraid to share any ideas on what may need fixing for this chapter, especially in the case of Mallow being kept a secret.

I may take some extra time next few chapters, maybe try to get more than one done at a time so the updates are a bit beefier.


	15. Session 15

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

Sorry sorry sorry! Just been a bit lazy, as well as doing some work as part of my family is planning on selling one of our old houses. But I promise to try and get back on the ball in time with this story, at least I left off at a fairly decent midpoint so to speak. I will point out that the next couple of chapters or so will be smaller vignettes of sorts, still with plenty of action and story, but quite as long as earlier installments. This is more or less so I can update a little faster, and pass time along faster without doing skips in time within a chapter. Enough rambling, onto the next chapter.

_Chapter 15_ ~ _Don't go near the Water_

Vanilla groggily snapped awake as he heard the whistle blow of the train nearing its destination. It was about a quarter to 5, the sky already gaining a hue of orange. He couldn't quite recall when he had passed out, but it must have been shortly after he and Connie had departed from Garland Station, several hours ago.

Immediately, his thoughts returned to earlier that day, when he paid a visit to Sir John. The day after his fateful reunion with Mallow and Captain Ciboulette, Vanilla was eager to return to Happy Garland and relay his discovery to the waiting father of his now discovered friend. Sir John had appeared even more disheveled since their last encounter, but instantly lit up upon seeing the youth.

_"So he's alive!" The doctor practically cried, relief melting away the tension that had laid claim to his mind for the last several weeks. "Oh thank god. I was beginning to think..." He trailed off, the unfinished thought clear to Vanilla, who explained the situation in full. _

_ "I see. I don't know what he's done to get into this sort of trouble, but that's beside the point. Right now, I have to see him." Sir John said, heading for the door of his office, "You have my deepest gratitude, Vanilla." He said as before closing the door. By the time Vanilla had left the hospital, Sir John was already heading for the train station._

Shortly thereafter, Vanilla and Connie packed up for their own trip back to Nefroburg. Thinking back to it all, Vanilla musingly thought things almost played out like some staged set of events, he'd complete one task, and move onto the other. Of course, his mind was always drifting into odd thoughts about a shortage of bananas and trotmobiles that trails rainbow streams in the air. Shaking his head, Vanilla stood and limbered up his stiff arms and legs before letting out a deep yawn.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" A delightful voice called, Connie. She was just returning to her seat opposite of Vanilla, having probably gone to stretch her own legs as well. "It's funny, seems like we were just here the other day." She thought aloud with a laugh. Vanilla nodded, "I know." He chuckled. It had only been just about a week since they were last in town, and now here they were again.

The bellowing whistle of the train and the screech of gears signaled the abrupt end of their trip.

"Well, we're here. Time to get a move on." Vanilla smiled, a flare of determination in his eyes as he peered in the direction of Egret Brook.

[I]

The waning orange glow of the sun peaked over the high cliffs of Seagull Beach as the two teens arrived in the Earl Grey II. Which was now outfitted with the boat like 'Float' body borrowed from Captain Ciboulette, and a retractable roof and two ordinary arm frames. Not much had changed since that fateful day, the charred remains of the shipwrecked Juniper Berry now sat quietly in the crashing waves, wedged between jagged rocks at least 200 feet out from the shore. At once Vanilla felt both nostalgic and disoriented, a feeling of Déjà vu coming over him. "You alright?" Connie's voiced snapped him from his wandering thoughts. "Y-yea, I'm fine."

"Seagull Beach.. Where we first met." Remarked Connie, feeling a tinge of nostalgia herself. "Mhmm." Vanilla agreed, thinking back to that first moment, when he awoke on the beach and saw Connie. Felt at once both confused, and comforted as he stared up at her. Thanks to her kindness, his journey wasn't a lonely one. And now here he was, his memories mostly restored, and no longer a stranger to himself.

However, now wasn't the time for reminiscing. He had a simple task to take care of, and the faster he fulfilled it, the more time he'd have to spend hanging out with Connie and the others. The float worked like a dream, the Earl listlessly drifting into the deep waters, the propeller silently pushing it forth towards the ship. The entire ship was split, the bow and stern divided into two halves.

"Are you gonna be ok?" Connie nervously asked as Vanilla edged the Earl close to a gaping hole in the starboard side and stood up. "It's alright. The license ought to be in the captain's quarters. I'll be back in no time." Vanilla said reassuringly before hopping over the water and into the broken hull.

Connie, quietly uttered an urgent, "Be careful."

Shallow water splashed around Vanilla's feet as he landed inside, below deck, nearly losing balance from the slanted wet floor. Taking out a flashlight, he scanned the area. The damage seemed worse inside than out, with the entire bow side nearly blocked off by rocks and debris. Thankfully, the stern was largely intact, and Vanilla knew that Ciboulette's quarters had to be in this part of the ship. Spotting stairs, he sloshed through the water and ascended them.

At the first landing, doors could be seen to either the left and right, with a another behind the second set of stairs that led further up the ship. "That has to be it." Vanilla thought to himself, walking around the stairs towards the farthest door. Sure enough he could see a lopsided sign that read "Captain's den" hanging from the door. He turned the handle and pushed, meeting some resistance from scattered items on the opposite side. Pushing harder, Vanilla eventually wedged the door open and slipped inside.

The room was a mess, a tipped bookshelf lay on the floor, its contents the obstruction Vanilla had just overcome. The bed was standing vertical against the wall, and several pictures and other items of worth lay scattered all over the floor. Carefully stepping around the strewn items, Vanilla began to sift through them, eventually coming across a frame with an official looking document, the sailing license. Tucking it under his left arm, Vanilla slipped back out of the room as quietly as he had entered.

"That was surprisingly easy." Connie remarked as Vanilla emerged from the damaged ship and hopped back into the Earl's cockpit carrying the frame license. "Sure was, the dragon was asleep and someone forgot to set the traps." The blond youth casually remarked, leading to the young songstress to burst out in a fit of giggles.

They shortly returned to the shore and decided to sit for a while on the cooling sands. The purple sky was slowly turning darker, the blanket of night settling in.

"So, do we have to get going, now that we have the license?" Connie asked abruptly. Vanilla sat up, noticing a look of hesitation on Connie's face. "Not really. Ciboulette said I could take my time in retrieving the license. Why, did you want to go somewhere?" He asked, Connie now perking up greatly.

"Well... I thought maybe we could go to Lake Luminoso. It's usually quite lovely in the spring." Connie stammered, which Vanilla found quite cute.

"Sure. Besides, I do have to drop Pete's letter off to Eric and let Dr. Nutmeg know how much progress I've made. And I imagine he'd be happy to see you too." Vanilla stood up, offering his hand to Connie as she shifted to stand as well. Nodding her head, she smiled, "Yea."

"Then it's a date." The blonde grinned, turning away just as Connie turned a shade of red.

"N-no it's not! We're just taking a trip together, that's all!

"Hey hey! Ow! Don't swat me!"

[II]

The following day, the two teens headed out for Vision Ranch. They had breakfast at Rosemary's, courtesy of Ms. Echinacea. Both she and Rosemary were glad to hear about Vanilla's discovery in Neuhafen, and Rosemary remarked how it seemed fortune had blessed the pair during their journey. Arriving at the ranch at around quarter of 1, they stopped by the small farm that sat at the foot of the tall hill, where the sounds of tinkering echoed from Willie and Otto's workshop at the top.

A young boy in overalls and heavy rubber boots was cleaning out a food troth when he caught sight of Vanilla approaching. "Can I help you, sir?" He asked as he dusted off his hands.

"Are you Eric?" The boy seemed puzzled by the inquiry, but nodded nonetheless. "I have a letter for you. A boy from Skylark named Pete asked me to deliver this."

"Really?" The boy lit up, excitedly accepting the letter as Vanilla removed it from his breast pocket. "When I saw the trotmobile, I thought maybe you were looking for my brothers Willie and Otto." Vanilla almost did a double-take at this. "Those two are your brothers?"

"Yea. Most folk wouldn't know it, given how they're always holed up in that workshop of theirs." Eric said as he opened the envelope. "Ma and Pa aren't too keen on them not helping here at the farm, but I think it's cool what they're doing." He added as he removed the letter, and a sheet of blank paper. "Oh cool, this must be that paper dragonfly he told me about in the last letter. Thanks for bringing the letter."

"No problem." Vanilla said as he returned to the Earl Grey and beginning the ascent up the hill. Connie stared longingly out across the lake, deep in thought. "This really brings me back. Mom and me used to come here often, along with Savory and the others."

Vanilla listened closely as he went by Willie and Otto's, the sounds of chaos echoing from insight the shack. "Must have been really fun."

"They were." Connie remarked thoughtfully, "We fished, played tag, pretty much the typical kid stuff. Me, Dandelion, Chicory, Savory, Basil, and Mallow."

The blonde was a little taken aback by this mention. "Really? I didn't know you guys hung out with him."

"This was shortly before his father was assigned a seat on the Garland City Council. Back then, he was actually pretty nice to be around, often telling us about old cultures in the books his father had given him, some of which we never even heard of in school." Connie began, her gaze still settled towards the lake. "But then he changed one day. Suddenly he seemed distant from all of us, as though associating with us was bad..."

"I can't imagine what would make him act like that." Commented Vanilla, who honestly couldn't imagine the boy he had met to be the monster Connie and everyone often spoke of, the one who led Chicory to his demise. However, he decided to put aside further thoughts on the matter as they arrived at Nutmeg's workshop.

Inside, the place seemed to be a mess. Parts and scraps of unknown contraptions littered the floor, and at the small worktable as before, was the absentminded old doctor himself.

"Eh, no. That doesn't seem to be right." The gray haired man thought loudly as he tinkered with a small contraption of sorts. Which looked like a small toy airplane.

"Hello? Dr. Nutmeg?" Connie called out as she and Vanilla entered the small work station. Swiveling in his seat, Nutmeg flipped back a set of spectacles and took a long look at the girl.

"Connie! Ah it's been ages. How are you my dear?" The old man practically lit up as he realized who it was that had came to visit.

Connie giggled politely, "I'm fine, Dr. Nutmeg. It's great to see you as well. I can see you're still as busy as ever." She nodded to the gadget that sat on the workbench.

Aye, that I have." Nutmeg chuckled heartily, then noticed Vanilla as well. "Oh it's you. The kid with the amnesia was it? You certainly look a lot better since the last time."

"Thanks, I've actually made a lot of progress." Vanilla admitted, and gave a brief summary of the memories he had recovered. Again, he did feel odd having to omit his reunion with Mallow, but was dedicated to keeping his promise for the time being. "I'm impressed. I hadn't expected you to recover so quickly, but all the same I'm happy you have."

Connie then went on to tell about their trek through Sabbia, the bandits in the Quail Tunnels, and of Fennel's planned departure from the group.

The old scientist grinned, laughing fondly, "Sometimes I envy you youngsters, still having adventures while I'm cooped up in this place. By the way..." He turned to Vanilla, "How's that stage arm been working for ya?"

"Really well. Though I haven't really been able to use it for a stage, so much as a shield." Vanilla nervously chuckled. "Eh, at least it's doing some good, that's the important thing. Besides, it wouldn't have been much of a stage if it couldn't take some heavy abuse, now would it?" And the old codger snickered, "Here, bring it around to the garage and I'll give it a tune up." Vanilla followed as told, Nutmeg setting up a kettle of tea in the meantime.

"He's very dedicated for someone his age." Vanilla whispered to Connie as the two watched Nutmeg running diagnostics on the Earl Grey II. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm not that old!" He called over as he fixed up the float's paneling. The two snickered, leaving the old man to huff and just dismissively wave it off.

"I'm impressed to see a float model, it's a been a while since I've seen one of these." Nutmeg remarked as he closed up a small fracture and polished the coating.

"Hey doc!" A voice called over a strange whirring sound.

Nutmeg furrowed a brow as the rapping came from his door. "Oh what now? Who is it?" He shouted to the closed door. Opening, the figures of Willie and Otto shuffled in, followed by a trail of thin smoke and covered in smut. "You two again? Let me guess, that crap flyer or whatever you call it went kablooie again?" Nutmeg groaned as the two came to a stop near the door way to the garage.

Otto frowned, "It's the Flap Flyer. And..." He trailed off, knowing Nutmeg was right on the money. Willie decided to cut in, "Come on, pops, can't you just offer some insight about what we could do to make improvements?"

Nutmeg sighed, cupping his head in frustration, then looked up. "I've said it a million times already; Trotmobiles can not fly!"

"But we've almost got it this time!" Willie boasted, pointing out the window, where the Flap Flyer was on tipped onto one side, and spinning circles spastically with puffs of smoke. Nutmeg harrumphed, shaking his head. "The only thing you two have got is a broken machine that has somehow managed to survive your constant attempts at flight."

"But if you'd just look at the latest schematics we've drawn up." Otto insisted, taking out a rolled set of blueprints from his pockets. Despite the scorch marks on his clothes, the paper was perfectly intact. Nutmeg drooped his shoulders, inwardly sighing as he took the blueprints and began looking them over. All the while, Connie and Vanilla watched the spectacle unfold.

"They seem really serious about flying." Connie remarked, sipping on her tea.

Vanilla shook his head and laughed, "You don't know the half of it."

"Are you two idiots? Why on earth would you put that part there?" Nutmeg suddenly cried, jabbing a finger at the blueprints, though Vanilla or Connie couldn't see what he was freaking out over.

"But you see, that helps to give it the right propulsion." Otto began, but Nutmeg glared at him icily. "Yea, if you mean propel it straight into the ground!" He countered, leading to both Willie and Otto to shout and argue with the old man as they tugged at the blueprints and pointed at it in their banter. A small gust of wind blew in from the open window of the workshop, and carried in an oddly shaped piece of paper. Connie was the first to notice, pointing at it with delight as it gracefully drifted into the workshop and came to rest near the bickering trio.

"Eh, what's that?" Nutmeg quirked a brow as he abruptly stopped pointing out another flaw with the brothers' plan. As though on cue, Eric opened the door and entered. "Sorry Dr. Nutmeg. The wind blew my paper dragonfly in the wrong direction." The boy apologized as he ran up and picked up the uniquely shaped paperboard. "Oh good, it didn't get busted." He said as he looked it over, Nutmeg studying the dragonfly shaped paper.

"What is that, Eric?" The old scientist finally asked after moment. He had a fascinated look in his eye as he beheld the paper trinket.

"It's a toy my pen pal, Pete sent me. It's called origami, which means paper folding." Eric said, then looked around again worryingly, "I didn't knock something over with it, did I?"

"No no, no trouble at all." Nutmeg calmed him, "But I must say, seeing that toy in action has suddenly got me thinking..." Willie and Otto exchanged looks, looking on the verge of bursting with joy.

"You mean?"

"That maybe?"

Nutmeg held up a hand to silence them both, "Don't get your hopes up just yet. This just means maybe I've been a little hasty in judging the potential for flight." He then walked over to his work table and grabbed a pen, and began drawing on the blueprints.

"H-hey! Old man what are you doing?" Willie asked, stupefied, as was Otto.

"Just making some alterations, nothing to get your heads in a twist about." Nutmeg calmly responded, then waved for them to come over and look, "Now see? It's obvious that the wing shape is crucial if flight is to be even made remotely possible." Both brothers listened carefully, understanding.

"I see." Otto nodded as he looked over the prints. Willie interjected, pointing at the prints, "And if we moved this part to there!"

"Now it seems you two are getting it!" Nutmeg chuckled as he backed up to let the two younger inventors have a look at his changes. He then turned to Vanilla and Connie and chuckled.

"Eh, sorry about the distraction. Once this old noggin starts cooking, it can't be stopped." Nutmeg laughed as he quickly finished inspecting the Earl Grey II. "There we go, all set. You two behave yourselves, ya hear?"

Connie gave a giggle as she and Vanilla boarded the Earl, "You too." The pair shared in the jocular banter before pulling out of the garage.

They strolled down the hill and made their way to the small pier that overlooked part of the lakefront. A tall fence ran along the edge, likely to keep the nearby farm animals from accidentally falling in, and opened up along the area of land that ran beside the hill. A large crane could be seen, likely for loading and unloading the larger vessels. Connie frowned as she quickly noticed the lack of activity near the docks, where not even a single boat was to be seen.

"That's odd. This place is very popular for fishermen and small cruise vessels." She explained, then pointed to a large booth on the dock. "Maybe there's someone in there who can tell us what's going on." And the two parked beside the compartment.

"Excuse me? Is anyone around?" Connie called as they approached the booth. Inside, an elderly woman was quietly reading the paper before her attention was drawn to the two teens. "Sorry, we're closed indefinitely."

"What? But why?" Connie was astounded by the sharp response.

"Lake's been invaded by a monster."

"A what?" Vanilla chimed in, incredulously.

"You heard me. There's some sort of monster in the lake. It's been terrorizing anyone who goes into the water for months. Now nobody wants to go in, and it's even cut off communications with Meme village." She pointed to across the lake, where they could just barely see the distant shapes of small housing.

"Wait, there's a town over there?" Vanilla asked, surprised he hadn't noticed the tiny settlement before. Of course, from where they were, it was almost a speck in the distance.

"It's a small fishing community, folk who've kept it simple all their lives. Shame really, with access to the lake gone, they can't get the resources they need. And it's probably gonna take at least another month before the Railroad company can make their way through to the village." The old woman nodded towards the small station where the tracks stopped, signs of construction still underway.

Vanilla had a bad feeling about this but decided to speak anyway, "I'm going to check it out." Connie and the old woman both looked with surprise in their eyes.

"Are you sure. It could be dangerous." Connie asked. Vanilla nodded, "Something is up, I mean, you don't really believe in monsters, do you?" He asked with a grin.

"No! I mean... I just don't want you getting hurt." She retorted with a slight fluster. Vanilla had to resist chuckling, there was something endearingly cute about her feisty look right now.

[III]

Setting out into the water despite the old woman's objections, the two could almost feel the silence steadily encompassing them as they got further and further from land. Only the gentle lap of the passing waters and the distant sound of birds reached their ears. The surface of the lake glistened and glittered like sparkling diamonds, yet the darker depths now seemed ominous after the unsettling warnings. Vanilla now found himself feeling a bit uncertain, both in his confidence about clearing the lake, and whether the old woman wasn't making things up.

"Maybe we should head back." Connie said, looking around uncertainly, occasionally peering over the edge with a nervous look. The youth was feeling inclined to obliged, when a slow rumble caused his heart to skip a beat.

"What was that?" He asked aloud, cautiously leaning over the side of the Earl and staring down. For a scant second, he caught sight a dim glow that passed under the bobbing trotmobile and further ahead of them. Connie said nothing, only shuffling in her seat to huddle next to Vanilla.

A deep groaning sound, like some inhuman wail began to rise in volume, from nearly inaudible to a dull roar. About thirty feet to their left, the water's surface foamed and bubbled mightily before something erupted from the depths. At a glance, the eerie orange glow and cylindrical shape would have made anyone think it was some strange head, but the glistening of a lens tipped off the two that it was some kind of periscope.

"What in the world?" Connie gasped as the scope rose higher as something else emerged from the water.

It was enormous, at least three times the size of the Don Elephant in terms of size. The main 'body' was much like a ship, but rounder, like a cylinder. Near the center was a tower like deck of sorts, where the periscope stood tall. The mysterious vessel arose from the water like a beast, dwarfing the Earl Grey and its two riders.

Two large box like panels roared to life, rising up to reveal a battery of cannons! Wide eyed, Vanilla rolled up the retractable roof and peddled back the Earl as the ship opened fire on them. Cannonballs struck the spot in the water where they just were, sending up geysers of waters that rained back down amidst the deafening blasts.

"I think we've found the 'monster' of the lake!" Vanilla exclaimed with a grunt as he willed the Earl to move as fast through the waters as possible to avoid the onslaught of cannon fire. Use of the arms was out of the question, as they were being used to paddle the trotmobile through the water. But trying to run was too risky, as they quickly learned when the mysterious vessel easily shifted through the waters to keep its sights on them.

He was going to have to get on top of it. He took a quick look to his right, where Connie was holding onto him tightly, eyes shut. He felt like an idiot, dragging her into this, but there wasn't any good in berating himself now.

"Don't worry, I know we'll get out of this." Vanilla firmly said, stroking Connie's hair for a second before grasping the controls. Switching to a serpentine maneuver, Vanilla made his way towards the vessel as it continued to fire upon them. However, he miscalculated one sharp turn, and winced as the right arm was snapped off, sinking into the water like a fallen tree trunk. Now the Earl was harder to steer through the water, forcing Vanilla to rely on moving forward and then jerking the left arm back or forth to avoid the cannonballs. Finally he reached the massive deck where the cannons were.

"I've had enough of this nonsense!" Vanilla growled, pulling himself onto the floor of the deck with the left arm. The vessel began to emit a strange siren noise, and shook violently. Realizing it was about to submerge again, Vanilla made a dash for one of the cannons, which were whirling around to fix back into place. He swung with all the force he could muster, punching a sizable dent into the body of the cannon structure. The broken 'box' sputtered and burst into flames, its mechanism damaged and malfunctioning. Vanilla then swung at the second cannon, but it was just closing down, and instead caught the hand of the arm and crushed it. But the breaking pieces proved surprisingly productive, jamming the second mechanism, causing it to burst as well.

However, there was nothing Vanilla could do any further, with the left hand gone, battering the periscope would be foolish, and the deck was already sinking into the water. Deciding it was time to cut his losses, Vanilla held onto Connie as the Earl landed back into the water with a heavy splash.

The vessel continued to wail, like some wounded beast, sinking deeper and deeper back into the depths of the lake. Whoever they were, the people controlling it, Vanilla couldn't care less. All he was certain of for now was that it wouldn't be bothering anyone in the lake for quite some time.

But the victory wasn't without its toll. The Earl was in bad shape, the near hits had battered the much more delicate float, and the loss its right arm and damaged left arm hampered paddling greatly. Looking around, Vanilla noticed that they were now closer to the village the old woman had spoken about, Meme. With the propeller at full force, Vanilla and Connie made their way towards the little hamlet in the distance.

Meanwhile, far below in the murkier depths of Lake Luminoso. A man in black was handed a telegraph as he sat in the commander's seat of the control room within the vessel.

"Sir, what are your orders?" An engineer dressed in a tan uniform asked. Having quietly read the message, the man in black stood up.

"We'll be pulling out of the lake soon. The practice run for the _Deep Discovery_ has been been deemed satisfactory, however it's been determined to be far too limited in combat purposes." The engineer saluted, and the man in black sat back down in his seat.

Quietly, he fiddled with a lapel on his breast pocket, bearing the image of a _Red Mantis_.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

I apologize for the long delay. Due to circumstances concerning my family moving from our old residence, and my tendency to sometimes slack off, I was pretty much not thinking at all about writing another chapter. But I pushed through and here we are. However, I will be gone for the next several weeks, but hope to return before the end of February.

In the meantime, I hope everyone will review the chapter, and give their insight on the battle with the Deep Discovery. Much like the Sand Castle boss battle that I skipped in the Sabbia desert arc, I was tempted to really change the battle. However, I figured that the Deep Discovery wasn't as impractical as the other boss, and thus could be played straight. I'm not sure I did the description of it justice, and I certainly feel the battle maybe could have been a bit more involved. If anyone has suggestions for improving the description and the battle, I'll be more than happy to try and implement them. The main goal was to make the Earl suffer enough damage, and necessitate Vanilla and Connie having to stop off at Meme village.

Well, that's enough rambling for now. I promise to try and get into a better schedule when I return. See ya later! ^_^


	16. Session 16

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

Been a while, I know, but things got a little out of hand with the move, and of course I got sidetracked with the backlog of games I had (Uncharted 3, inFAMOUS 2, Batman: Arkham City to name a few). As previously mentioned this, and a few other chapters may be a little faster paced and smaller compared to the earlier, beefy chapters. Hopefully though they'll still be just as fun.

_Chapter 16 _~ _Amish Paradise_

A young boy, only eleven, watched with wide eyed wonder as what he could only describe as the strangest boat he'd ever seen slowly approach the docks he sat upon. As he watched, feet dangling over the cool blue waters, he could see the heads of a young man and woman, both wearing weary looks. Soon their battered machine, a trotmobile, lurched onto the deck, full of holes and leaking water and oil.

"Gosh, are you two alright?" The boy asked, his carrying hints of a unique dialect. The man, Vanilla, managed to force a wry smile, "Eh, I'm sure we'll live." He said, then turned to the girl, Connie, who gave a confirming nod of her well being.

Later, after being treated by the local physician, the mayor of Meme, Marlow, approached the two youths. "So you say that monster terrorizing the lake has been done away with?"

"Well, it wasn't really a monster. But some sort of machine, like ours." Vanilla said, gesturing to the Earl, which sat near the docks, still dripping fluids.

"Regardless, we owe you our thanks." Marlow began, the rest of the townspeople, all 20 of them, nodded in approval. "We were starting to get worried, what with our only present means of access to the rest of world blocked off." It was only now after having gotten a moment to rest, that Vanilla could take in the village around him.

There were only a handful of houses, with the rest of the small valley largely untouched. Barns and chicken coops could be seen off the left, beside the largest housing structure they were presently sitting outside of. It was quite pleasant, like Skylark Farms back near Neuhafen. Barring the power line that ran into the main building, one might have mistaken Meme as being utterly detached from the outside world.

"So, this is a trotmobile, eh?" A young tan skinned woman in a baggy mechanics outfit remarked with a whistle. "I've read about them in the magazines some of the fish traders bring over, but haven't seen one up close til now."

"Better watch out, Margarita's a real machine junky. And considering we seldom see anything really technical around these parts, she's liable to pick your machine apart." A man in the crowd said, raising a chuckle amongst the gathering.

"It's amazing to think this place has remained unchanged for so long." Vanilla thought out loud.

"True. Meme is probably one of the few settlements to have remained so simple, but that's how we've chosen to live." Marlow explained, "Though we've been offered time and time again a chance to "catch up" with the rest of world. The train company has been looking to make a railroad that would pass by us, and into the city of Happy Garland." He continued, turning away with a thoughtful look. "And in light of recent situations, I believe we should take them up on that offer."

"But Marlow, are you sure?" A middle-aged bearded man in a bowler hat and simple coat asked, looking greatly concerned. Beside him stood a young boy, his son likely.

"Now now, Gable. I understand your reluctance towards modernization. I'm not saying we need machines like our young friends here, but we must consider that if the lake were to become inaccessible again for any reason, we'd be in trouble once more."

"Yes. You're right." Gable relented, though his hesitancy didn't fade in the slightest.

"Right." Marlow then turned to Connie and Vanilla. "We should be able to send someone over to the mainland by tomorrow morning, and hopefully commission a ferry to arrive here shortly thereafter. Until then, please relax, and enjoy the splendor of our little village." Before either of the two teens could utter a word, an impromptu festival was underway. Freshly harvested vegetables, wood stove breads, and sun-dried meats were practically being thrown at the two as merriment permeated the atmosphere around them.

"So what's it like? Piloting one of those machines?" The mechanic girl, Margarita asked excitedly, like a child meeting an interesting individual. Vanilla found himself stammering half answers as he was bombarded with question after question relating to trotmobiles and their workings.

"I've always wanted to own one, though Marlow said it wouldn't really be safe driving one around the farms, and that I don't know a thing about piloting one..." The young woman said, eyeing the Earl Grey with a look of longing.

Connie meanwhile was the center of attention as a few villagers recognized her. And, like Vanilla, was barely managing to answer all the questions lobbed at her. Eventually they managed to weasel away from their audiences, sharing a sigh of relief as they both thought their ears were gonna fall off. The two later sat by the small docks, watching as the moon rose over the lake, its silvery form reflected in the water like a gleaming jewel. Behind them, many of the villagers sat around a massive bonfire, some singing, some dancing.

Vanilla eventually spoke up, "Though I didn't expect to blow up a giant ship, today turned out pretty well." Connie smiled, leaning back as she gazed up to night sky. It was a nice moment, much like that night back in Sabbia...

"That reminds me." Vanilla stood up with a start, Connie turning to look at him as he took off towards the Earl Grey. It was hard to see him, as the trotmobile sat in the shadows cast by the crowd and passing clouds. Eventually, Vanilla returned, carrying a somewhat frayed looking parcel.

"Here, I got this for you." The youth held out the round package. It was slightly damp, but otherwise undamaged from the leaks from the Earl Grey II's compartment. Unwrapping it, Connie uttered a silenced gasp as she beheld a beach hat with a pink ribbon. "Oh wow... Vanilla, it's beautiful."

"I saw it in a store back at Neuhafen. Thought you might like it."

"It's very lovely. You didn't have to, you know." Connie said, unable to hide a small blush on her face.

Now it was Vanilla's turn to be embarrassed. "Well you know... I saw how you liked that dress from last time. So I umm." He was cut off as Connie scooted closer to him, leaning her head against his left shoulder. "Thank you." She said quietly, Vanilla just missing the somewhat distant look she wore before closing her eyes as the two remained in that spot.

[I]

The next day, one of the fishermen set out in a rowboat for the station across the lake. As they waited, the pair learned about the previous offers made by the Railroad company to run a track past the village. It turned out that the lake ran northward, eventually feeding into a waterfall at Shrike river, near Happy Garland. The company hoped to create a looped track, allowing for even more engines to run in and out of the three major towns.

Marlow sighed, his face marred with thought. "Of course you've seen that some aren't very keen to the idea, such as Mr. Gable. He's probably more committed to our rustic lifestyle than anyone else. But I do believe it's for the betterment of our little village, and the country as a whole, if we accept one little bit of modernization."

"I can see why some would be concerned." Connie said, looking back towards the small houses that littered the small valley. As much as she enjoyed the sights and sounds of the city, she admitted it'd be a terrible shame to see this village be consumed by pavement and lights.

The mayor closed his eyes, a grin playing across his lips. "I recall hearing a man once say; _'Change is inevitable. But it only takes the will of one to determine how great that change may be'._ I think, as long as we don't lose sight of what matters, we'll be able to keep this place nice and quiet. A lasting symbol of simpler times, even if the rest of the world grows and changes without us."

Around evening time, the fisherman returned, confirming the arrival of a ferry boat by dawn tomorrow. It was quite pleasant out that night, and Vanilla found himself lying outside in the middle of a meadow, feeling the cool air brush gently across his face as he watched the stars. All in all, this little "vacation" of his and Connie's had turned out pretty well, giant underwater doomsday vessels aside. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep amongst the moonlit grass.

[II]

The following morning, a ferry arrived to pick up the two teens. Connie took the train back to Nefroburg while Vanilla made the trip back to Dr. Nutmeg's for repairs. Luckily, the doctor was hardly upset by the sad shape of the Earl Grey II, expressing more concern about the events that had led to its damaged state.

"You know, when I said to behave yourself. I didn't mean go and wreck your trotmobile fighting strange machines in the water!" Nutmeg half grumbled, not nearly as upset as his word might have implied. However, the repairs took much longer than the last time, forcing Vanilla to wait it out. He decided to pass the time by playing his harmonica.

"Didn't peg you for a musician." Nutmeg quipped as he hammered out a few dents with a hammer.

"Me neither." Vanilla said, thinking back to the day he recalled his talent for the tiny instrument. He continued to play several small notes, with no real beat in mind beyond whatever cropped into his head at that moment. Luckily, Nutmeg's prowess for fixing things through and the Earl was looking good as new just before late afternoon.

"Please, try to keep it in one piece for more than a day this time." Nutmeg joked as Vanilla prepared to leave the shop. With a lighthearted "I'll try.", Vanilla made his way back to Nefroburg, following the tracks through Wagtail Canyon.

It was just beginning to get dark as the youth arrived at the bakery near Connie's place. Nearby, he could see Charles' vending stand, but it was closed for the night. Needing something to eat, Vanilla stopped inside the bakery, treating himself to a loaf of sweetbread to stuff his growling stomach. As he heartily munched on the bread, he strolled over to Connie's, where the brunette was out on the stoop waiting.

"I had a feeling you might be out stuffing your face." She playfully poked the blonde in the stomach as he tried to greet her and not let go of the remaining morsel of bread dangling from his teeth. "Ms. Echinacea actually saved a plate for you, that is, if you're still hungry." Vanilla hastily scarfed down the last piece of the bread and uttered an exuberant "Sure!"

Connie giggled gestured to the stairs, "Then come right in!"

Inside, Vanilla was treated to a lukewarm meal of lamb chops and baked potatoes, which he enjoyed nonetheless. As before, Echinacea was more than happy to provide a full meal for the "growing boy."

"In my family, making sure everyone had a full belly was something we took pride in." The older woman quipped, pleased to see Vanilla's satisfied face as he finished the plate. "If you've got time tomorrow morning, I'd be happy to make you breakfast."

"Definitely!" Vanilla agreed as he thanked Echinacea for the meal once more and left to see Connie.

[III]

Later that night, Connie and Vanilla went out strolling, enjoying the peaceful nighttime scene of Nefroburg. The town appeared to be in great condition once more, the repairs all completed.

"It's almost like nothing ever happened." Connie said, pausing as they stopped near the inn, and looked to the town square. On a bench sat two of the killer elephant members, passed out. "And to think you managed to make them turn their act around."

Vanilla shrugged, "I'm still amazed I managed to become their boss." Though he often found himself wondering about the potential he had, with an entire gang at his fingertips. However, any notions of his possible power was quickly forgotten as he heard someone call him.

"Vanilla? Is that you?" A deep voice called their attention. Turning around, Vanilla recognized Charles and Sheryl as they approached, holding hands. "It is! How are you?"

Vanilla shook hands with the man, "Good, and you?"

"Just enjoying a nice evening walk. So who's your friend?" Sheryl answered for the two.

"This is Connie, from the Globetrotters."

"I thought I recognized you." Charles said, then cupped his chin as he grinned, "So, got a thing for famous people, eh?"

Connie turned crimson while Vanilla went wide eyed and began to feign a coughing fit.

"W-what are you talking about?" - "It's not like that!" They both stammered, then looked at each other in confusion, but were drawn back to the couple as they shared in a laugh.

"We were only teasing." Sheryl said, prompting Charles to nod. Vanilla was rather surprised by this, to think this was the man who, only a short while ago, was timid as a mouse and unable to speak to the girl beside him.

"Well then, we'll leave you two alone. Take care." And with that, the couple left down the street towards the theater near the square, leaving Vanilla and Connie standing, both still a little flustered.

Clearing his throat, Vanilla spoke up, "I'll um, see you in the morning?" Connie seemed a bit slow to react, then replied. "Sure." Before turning to leave. Entering the inn, Vanilla leaned against the door for a moment as his mind whirled with thought. It wasn't like him to get flustered when asked about his relationship to Connie. But it felt different this time, and as he thought about it, things had been a little different between them since that time on Don Puccini's yacht.

'_We really have become close, after all this time...'_ Vanilla thought, then shook his head and yawned. It was late and he needed rest, he could worry about the matter later. However, as he went to the counter to request a room, a newspaper lying on the breakfast table caught his attention. Glancing over the headline, Vanilla's blue eyes widened in shock as he felt his blood run cold...

**Breaking news****: Garland Arts Teacher, Pablo, Accused of Plagiarism.**

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Short, but I think I handled the little scenes alright, and certainly if anyone can suggest ways to lengthen them later on, I'll be more than happy to try. I'm sure anyone familiar with the game will immediately notice some differences with Meme village. I decided to expand on it's more rural feel, and also give the mayor a more realistic reaction to seeing an advanced machine like the trotmobile as opposed to "Let's get rich and modern" like the game depicted, which to me felt rather exaggerated.

Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	17. Session 17

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

As promised, I started on this chapter right after 16, so that I could at least provide something of a better update this time around. While I probably could have simply combined the two, I wanted them separate since it would have been hard to play on the song name if stuff not really relating to it was going on (laughs). After this chapter, I should be able to make the next few a lot more involved and longer, but no guarantees.

_Chapter 17_ ~ _Music Revolution_

Three days had passed since Vanilla learned that Pablo, the artist he had helped numerous times, had been accused of plagiarizing another artist's work, and was facing possible suspension from the University of Happy Garland. When he met with Theodore, the arts director, he learned that Pablo had been ordered to remain in his studio apartment at all times until further notice from the authorities. As shocking as it was, Vanilla was relieved to know that Pablo wasn't in any serious danger, and could only hope things would work out for the better soon enough.

In the meantime, news of the newly resumed railroad construction at Meme village quickly reach Garland. Legislation had been banking on the expanse to the railroad, and now that the village had agreed, all available workers were being put on the effort to speed along the rail line's completion within the year. While the band was still enjoying their break, Vanilla decided to take some time off from adventuring, and just relax for once at the Lobster Inn, while Connie was off on her own, having received the latest sheet music from Dandelion and wanting to get to work on the lyrics.

It was quite a surprise, when Fennel of all people arrived at the inn, looking for Vanilla.

The slick musician looked positively jubilant as he approached, "It's ready!"

"What is?" The blonde curiously quirked a brow.

"The guitar, what else? George managed to create a prototype for me to use." Fennel explained, his voice filled with joy, "Now, now I can finally show the world the new sound that I've envisioned." The suave guitarist wrung his hands together, ecstatic about reaching his goal finally.

"So... what do you want with me?"

Fennel sat down opposite of Vanilla, sitting as he always did, very informally. "Well I have to give credit where credit is due. If it weren't for your little suggestion, Georgie-boy would still be wracking his brain over the new guitar. I wanted to give you props at my bands premiere event, as well as invite the others to watch as we usher in a new age of music."

"Thanks, though I really didn't really do much of anything." Vanilla laughed.

"Nonsense, kid. You've been a world of help ever since you turned up. Now, about the others." Fennel began to ask.

"They're out right now. Marjoram's helping at his family's store up the street. Basil is at the stock market."

Fennel chuckled softly at this, "Probably thinking he can go bet at the arena, again." Vanilla snickered as well, then continued. "I don't know where Savory is, and Connie said she was going somewhere to think up lyrics."

"She's probably off at her 'special'."

"Special place?" Vanilla echoed.

"It's that little spot near the hospital that overlooks the canals. She always said standing there helped her find inspiration for lyrics." Fennel explained, then stood up and headed for the door. "I'll go give the news to Marjoram, Basil, and Savory, if I see her. You can take care of Connie. The gig's tonight, so don't be late!"

[I]

That evening, people were lining up at the Garland Station Hotel, where Fennel and his band, the _Blue Lightning_, were going to perform their very first concert with a bold new kind of instrument. From the streets outside, to the large waiting area inside, people eagerly awaited admission to the ballroom. Vanilla was lucky to have made it there early, as the line began to reach outside the doors of the hotel, half an hour ago. However, the others were nowhere in sight.

Marjoram had stopped by during lunch hour along with the others, informing Vanilla that he might be late helping to close his mother's store. Basil had promised to make a few wagers at the arena, and Connie said she was on a roll with the lyrics, but was anxious to see Fennel's show. Savory, as usual, was absent.

A whistle drew his attention, as well that of some crowd goers. "Yo, Vanilla!" And he looked to the ballroom doors, where Fennel stood waving towards him. "Get in here in already!"

Brushing his way through the queue, Vanilla could feel the scornful, and bewildered looks of others as he crossed into the already quite packed ballroom. Actually, packed didn't even begin to describe the mass of people standing on the carpeted floor. So many had came to attend this concert, that the hotel staff had to move all the tables and chairs from the room just to accommodate the swelling crowd.

Flashing a grin to some giggling fangirls, Fennel asked, "Any sign of the others?" Vanilla shook his head, shrugging. "No, sorry. Marjoram said he might be tied up with the store, and Connie said she'd come as soon as she finished the song. While Basil..."

"Ah, don't sweat it. I informed the hotel staff to let them in if they do drop by. But it's not a big deal, there will be other concerts. Besides, I still that farewell gig deal still setup with you guys."

"That's true." Vanilla mumbled, almost forgetting that Fennel was gonna be performing with the group in the near future. He then saw Franklin and Benjamin, Fennel's bandmates making motions on the stage. "Looks like it's time. Here, go stand up front, and get ready for the most mind-blowing show you'll ever hear!"

Doing as informed, Vanilla took a spot up near the stage, where some of the most zealous fans were practically shaking with excitement as their blue clad icon climbed onto the stage and raised his arms to draw attention to him as the lights dimmed. Benjamin took his place to Fennel's right, with a bass in his hands, while Franklin stood behind next to a set of drums that were far more stylish than the ones Marjoram owned.

"Welcome, welcome! Thank you all for coming to the debut of Fennel and the Blue Lightning!" A deafening roar of excitement rose from side of the room to the other like a crashing wave. "I've got something real special to show you all. A new instrument, made by a good friend of mine, George." He said as he held aloft a guitar, far different from the traditional one Connie used. It was bulkier, and looked quite heavy. A long thick cord ran from the base of it and to a speaker near Fennel's left.

A spot light shone down on the youth. "I'd also like to give a shout out to my man, Vanilla! For helping make this guitar a reality! Give him a round of applause!" Several people in the crowd clapped loudly, then stopped as the light faded, and appeared over Fennel instead. "Now prepare yourselves, for a revolution in music... A _Music Revolution_!"

Instantly Fennel strummed the guitar, which let out a high pitched note which last only a few seconds. Benjamin and Franklin then joined in just as Fennel's fingers began to dance across the strings, creating a steady chord. Something about it reminded Vanilla of a warm sunny day at the beach as the melody played out, far different than anything he'd heard thus far. All around, the crowd erupted into cheers as Fennel stepped forward to begin singing...

_Oh, I've had it with this place. So I'm movin' on! _

_ Take one good last look at my face, Cause I'll soon be gone. _

_ Gonna enter in the big race. And write my own songs! _

Fennel had passion in his playing skills, but there was something off about his singing that Vanilla couldn't help but notice. His tone felt dull, lacking the spirit and diversity that Connie possessed. It felt shallow, lifeless even.

_ Yea, I'm rockin' up through the ranks, And rollin' with new bands! _

_ So I'm giving my guitar thanks. _

_ And my skillful hands, will fill up with money like banks! _

_ And that's how it stands! _

The words also lacked any creativity, sounding more boastful than meaningful. Even for someone like Vanilla, who considered himself ordinary at best musically, this was painfully amateurish.

_ There's a great big world out there, Music all around. _

_ My guitar's the best there is, it's an awesome sound! _

_ It's a Music Revolution! And I'll rule the land! _

The jam went on, and Vanilla could only watch, and listen as it unfolded before his eyes and ears...

[II]

Connie and Basil sat at the lounge, heads in their hands. Though for different reasons.

The young brunette thumped her forehead with her open palm. "I can't believe I forgot Fennel's big concert!"

"I can't believe I blew all that cash!" Basil chimed, only for Savory to give him a gentle shove, "A-and forget the concert... too..." He blushed.

"Well I'm sure Fennel will understand. He's not one to hold grudges. Besides, I heard the place got packed pretty early, we might not have been able to make it in even if we got there on time." Marjoram said, trying to raise everybody's spirits. They each felt a little guilty for missing out on their former bandmates' big day. Suddenly, the doors opened, and in walked Vanilla.

"You're back. Did the concert last long?" Savory asked as the others turned around in their seats. Vanilla didn't answer at first, appearing to be taking his time in responding.

"Yea, it just finished a while ago." Vanilla answered, somewhat indifferent.

"So how was it? What was it like to hear Fennel sing? What did that new guitar of his sound like?" Connie inquired, the others all waiting the answer.

"It was... _different_."

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Really hate myself for such a long delay, and only two brief chapters to show for it. But hopefully my little slouch won't last long. I admit I couldn't think of much else for this chapter, so I'm welcome to any suggestions for fattening it up, even a little. I can only hope I communicated how bad Fennel's song is, because for those of you who haven't played the game, it's really **BAD!** Maybe not McArthur Park terrible, but it's hard to tell if the game was intentionally making it sound bad or if the guy really just couldn't sing. Almost like that one version of the Code Lyoko theme some people don't know about... lol. Anyway, please review, I always enjoy hearing thoughts on the chapters, even the lackluster ones, heheh.

Should be turning out chapter 18 soon... I hope. :P


	18. Session 18

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

A little later than I had anticipated, got heavily into finishing my copy of Fallout: New Vegas (great game, but damn if the freeze ups don't get aggravating), and then I caught a little cold a while ago and couldn't really focus on much. Hopefully though, this chapter and the ones after will be more filling compared to the previous two. Things should be getting really interesting soon, as a lot of new events will start happening.

_Chapter 18_ ~ _Bad Moon Rising_

A week had passed since Fennel's new band made their debut, and became a huge success. Vanilla, who was there at their first concert, was understandably perplexed, having witness Fennel's "talent" for singing first hand.

_ "He's always been sort of "tone deaf"." _Savory had explained with a light chuckle, _"Rosemary tried to help him improve, guess it didn't stick."_ She added, mentioning the old days when Connie's mother helped instruct the band. Still, everyone was pleased that Fennel was finding success with his band.

But the questionable singing talent of the former Globetrotter was the least of Vanilla's concerns right now. Pablo, who had come under fire after accusations of plagiarism, had just been let go from the Garland University a few days ago, and then promptly vanished. No one had a clue about his whereabouts, not even Theodore, the man who had helped him get the teaching position in the first place. Ever since, Vanilla had been spending nearly every waking moment combing the streets of Happy Garland, looking for any signs of the wayward artist.

Since morning, Vanilla had exhausted every possible lead he could come up. First he tried the park where they had met, but it was empty. Next, he inquired at the train station, in the likelihood that Pablo had left town. Again, no such luck. Finally, Vanilla tried going door to door, hoping that maybe someone might have seen Pablo. It was a frustrating failure, most people having nothing useful to say, and others just closing the door in complete disinterest.

Needless to say, Vanilla was feeling at his wits end, and with good reason. A recent article in the Urban Times had mentioned more kidnappings taking place at night, and the possibilities sent a nervous chill down the youth's spine as he feared the worst.

As the town clock chimed for 6 O'clock, Vanilla gave a disheartened sigh as he decided to call it a day. But just as he passed the GW factory area, he caught sight of a figure stumbling past the auto shop. Cautiously, he followed the figure as they collapsed against a pile of rubbish. To his consternation, it was Pablo, nestling against a pile a of discarded cords and other broken devices, shivering and looking far more ragged than the last time they had met.

"Pablo?! It is you!" Vanilla was beyond relieved, despite the fretful sight of his friend.

"I s-swear I didn't do anything wrong!" The artist flinched as he heard Vanilla's voice, having been oblivious to the young man's presence until just now. He was clutching a tattered looking coat closely to himself, as well a a tightly wrapped bundle, likely his painting materials. Finally, he looked up and finally noticed the person addressing him, "Vanilla?" A horse voice croaked.

"Pablo, what are you doing out here?" Vanilla asked, shaking his head.

The young artist held his head as though reliving a trauma, "I just couldn't handle it... all the questions... all the accusatory looks. I tried to tell them I never copied anybody's works... but they..." he stopped as a racking cough overtook, making Vanilla react with greater concern than ever. "Are you alright? Do you need a doctor?"

"No... no, I'm fine. I... just need to go home." Vanilla frowned, but didn't wish to argue. "Ok then, what's your address? I'll give you a lift." But Pablo shook his head as forced himself to stand up, kicking away some cords that hand tangled around his legs.

"No, I need to go _home_. Back on Shrike river." He said, covering his mouth as another cough reverberated in his throat. Vanilla nodded, and led Pablo to the Earl Grey II parked near the inn. Once both were settled in, they left for the Northeast exit.

Though no development had taken place outside the fortified walls, powered lights shone brightly outside the exit. Ahead was a wide path of gravel and dirt that curved a few yards ahead sharply to the left, beside it was the stream that fed into the city beyond the walls.

Pablo took several breaths to compose himself before speaking, "My house is just a little ways ahead, around the corner, on a small hill near the shallow part of the stream." He gave the directions, and Vanilla followed them. Sure enough, the blonde could see the gentle glow of a small house opposite of the clearing they were passing through. It was nestled nicely atop a hill that overlooked the riverbank, and looked like a small farm of sorts. Crossing the shallow waters, Vanilla trekked up the hill and parked by a lone tree that stood beside a shed next to the house.

It was a humble looking home, not unlike the dwellings in Meme Village, and gave Vanilla a pleasant feeling of familiarity. Did he have a home like this?

"Who's there? If it's one of you punks, I've told you before, we've got nothing of value here!" A gruff voice called, and the door opened, spilling light across the ever darkening surroundings. An older man with a barrel shaped body in a ragged straw hat and worn overalls stood in the threshold, puffing out his chest as best as he could to intimidating. But upon noticing Pablo and Vanilla, he relaxed. And his expression shifted from surprise, confusion, before finally settling on a soft smile.

"Welcome home, Pablo. My son."

~I~

"And so they took away your job? That's just awful!" Pablo's mother, a middle aged woman with graying brown hair and a light blue dress said as she refilled cups of tea for everyone in the small dwelling. Pablo, who had just relayed his life's current events to his parents, nodded quietly. "Still, I'm proud that you were able to gain such a position, sweetheart. I always knew your works were deserving of such recognition."

"Thanks... mom." Pablo replied softly, staring into the cup. The woman smiled, understanding the wave of emotions her son was struggling under. "Cheer up, I'm sure once those people in the city realize their error, they'll be begging you to come back." She placed a reassuring hand on the young artist's shoulder, who grinned slightly.

Pablo's father turned to Vanilla, who had remained quiet as the family reunited over the last several moments. "It was nice of you to bring our boy back, even in his current state." Vanilla shrugged, "It was nothing. I was just helping a friend in need." He smiled.

"Still, it really means a lot to see our son after so long." Pablo's mother chimed in. "To know he's still chasing his dream makes us proud."

"Well, I'm glad to have helped then." Vanilla chuckled, scratching his head as he accepted the praise. He then sat up, realizing that it was now probably well into the evening, and that he had to go.

"Ah, leaving already?" Pablo's mother asked.

Vanilla beamed, "Yes, I need to get back to town. I'm sure my friends are probably wondering what I've been up to." He turned to Pablo. "Take care, Pablo. I hope you feel better soon." And with that, he left for the door.

"Thank you again... Vanilla."

The young trotmobile ride nodded, "No problem. I mean, what are friends for?" With that, Vanilla departed.

"At least one thing is for sure." Pablo's father said aloud, "You've made a true friend." He looked to his son, who rose from the table and picked up the bundle containing his painting tools.

"Looks like you've got your inspiration back."

"It was never lost." Pablo smiled, more genuinely than before. "It just took its time to come to me." He said as he set up the easel and a blank canvas. Pausing for a moment, he then silenced a small cough.

~II~

Later that weekend, on a breezy saturday afternoon, Vanilla and the others were on a ferry to Meme Village to attend the ceremony commemorating the first stage of the new railroad's completion. According to statements from the railroad commission in the newspaper, there were plans to build a line past the village, through the area near Marlet falls, and back to Happy Garland, creating a new line to Nefroburg, and effectively increasing transportation rates. Of course, Vanilla didn't care for that stuff, he was just eager for the unveiling ceremony which was to take place this afternoon.

Mayor Marlow had contacted Marjoram and requested that the rest of the band attend and perform a special concert for the celebration in the evening. Connie was quite excited, as she had just completed the newest song for the group, and was quite avid to perform it, as were the others.

As they arrived, they could see a large crowd of the villagers standing beside the recently constructed station. It was a small structure, with a concrete terminal for boarding the train, which at the present time would only be able to stop at the village, and be towed back to Nefroburg via another Engine.

However, there appeared to signs of restlessness within the gathered crowd, with Mayor Marlow in the thick of it. As the band disembarked from the ferry and unloaded their gear, they soon overheard the distress. There were voices of concern about the railroad's continued plans, and others about the possibility of the station expanding in the future to become a functioning hub.

"What if they try to take more of our homes?"

"Damn it, Marlow. You said the station would be a small one. This is hardly small."

"I just know some fatcat city slicker is gonna come waltzing in and start building his mansions or whatever they're called here!"

Mayor Marlow wiped some sweat from his brow and took a calming breath, "Now now, everyone please listen. I understand your distress, but there is nothing to fear. I've been clear with the folk who own the railroad, and they've agreed to keep their tracks from interfering with our farms. All they wish to do is push through the area southeast of us and connect back to that Happy Garlic town or whatever they call it."

"Is something wrong?" Connie asked as she and the others approached.

"It's nothing, just some lingering issues." Marlow sighed heavily, "I knew this decision wouldn't pass without some distress. But I stand by my notion that this will help us keep trade flow from being interrupted ever again."

"And I hope you're right, Marlow." A man with a bowler hat, Gable said, carrying a suitcase and accompanied by a small boy in a slightly oversized coat.

"Are you sure you won't stay Gable? I'm sorry that your house had to be removed for the track to come through." The mayor turned and walked over to the man, whose expression betrayed neither disapproval or any negativity.

"There was no way to predict that. But yes, I'm sure, old friend. We're heading for Eurydika, at least there I'm sure we can have a peaceful life, without having to worry about the "modern" world knocking on our doorstep. Well... at least for a while." Gable reflected, quietly, then turned to his son. "We're going now, son." And without another word, the man and his son left, boarding the ferry. Soon after, the vessel departed from the docks and made its way back for the mainland, the village quietly watching.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Though, I do understand Gable's concerns. As well as everyone else." Marlow spoke aloud, to everyone. "It does seem like small communities like ours are becoming a rarity in this "new" world, but know that I only did this for the betterment of our village. I hope you all believe me when I say that."

For a while, no one questioned him, instead only watching in silence. A while later, after people began to greet their guests, the Garland Globetrotters, did the atmosphere warm up once more. At around 2PM, the gathering relocated to the edge of the station, where a ribbon was hung ceremoniously over the buffer stop. Signaling for silence, the Mayor cleared his throat and began to speak.

"People of Meme village, I proudly welcome you to the unveiling of our newest addition. For the first time ever, we have taken a small, but significant step towards the future. This railroad, is not to be seen as sign of our humble little hamlet coming to an end, but a marker that we acknowledge the rest of the outside world, and a means of furthering relations with it. This track shall allow us to continue selling our wares and goods, whilst maintaining our individuality as a small community." Marlow spoke with great compassion, his heart sincere. "And now, I shall cut the ribbon!" And with that, he took a pair of scissors, and sliced the decorative ribbon, the action drawing a roar of applause from the crowd, and the flash of cameras. It seemed that the air of discontent had been lifted.

Like some cruelly timed prank, a massive boulder came tumbling down from the high cliffs, crashing heavily on the tracks not far from where the ceremony was taking place, along with a violent shift of dirt and gravel from the now crumbling cliff side.

Cries of dismay immediately sprung up from the crowd, while shouts proclaiming it was some kind of divine punishment could be heard. Mayor Marlow stood in shock, shaking his head.

"This can't be happening... Are we cursed to always be cut off from the world?"

But all worry was quickly swept away as Vanilla and Marjoram appeared in their trotmobiles, "It's just a little landslide, probably a result of the hasty digging that was done to get the tracks laid. This shouldn't be too hard to clear up." Marjoram said, then motioned for Vanilla to follow him as they walked along the tracks and began to move the debris.

Luckily Marjoram had his flatbed attached, and soon most of the more obstructive rocks were carried out and deposited in an unused clearing, while smaller ones were allowed to be dumped into the nearby waters. Within a few hours, the tracks were once more clear, and just in time. The bellowing whistle of the first engine could be heard as the train appeared in the distance, entering the newly made track that ran the outer edge of the lake.

"Those machines sure are something, huh?" A voice said.

"If I weren't worried about stepping on the chickens, I sure would love to have one of those trotomobilers." Cheers quickly arose as the tracks were finally cleared in time for the first ever arrival of the train, which whistled as it crossed the fresh new tracks that ran along the edge of the lake and into the village.

Upon arrival, a representative from the railroad commission appeared to speak with Marlow and deliver a small speech, thanking the villagers for agreeing to take part in this new expansion. After answering several concerned questions, the train departed, a second engine arriving to pull it back, to Nefroburg. As the sun began to set, the tension that had lingered was finally dispelled.

Marlow, now looking noticeably more confident after everything was over with, stepped up onto the station platform. "It pleases me to see things have turned out for the better. Despite the disagreements some of us share, I stand by my judgment that this railroad will help bring prosperity to our village." He said with a tug of his collar, then continued, "As a token to commemorate this day, I've requested that the _Garland Globetrotters_ perform right here our humble little village." While he spoke, the band was setting up, Their trotmobiles forming the stage near a stretch of land beside the grazing pasture for the farm animals.

They were just setting up the instruments as the villagers gathered around the stage, marveling at the makeshift stage. Once they were ready, everyone took their places. Connie stepped forth and waved to the crowd, "Thank you, everyone. We're the Garland Globetrotters, and we're honored to be here in your village to perform just for you." And with a snap of her fingers, Connie kicked off their newest song.

Marjoram started with a single, quick tap to one of the cymbals, followed by Connie strumming her guitar and humming.

_ Ooh yea... Haaa-eeee! _

Basil joined in the harmony with his violin, and Savory played a few keys before Connie began to sing.

_ Pulled down by gravity. The weight of a thousand bricks on your shoulders _

As Connie sang and strummed the guitar, Marjoram kept the pace with a steady beat of his drums.

_ It gnaws right through you, your flesh and bones cannot carry the weight _

_ You can no longer stand it _

Basil played a sustained tone, in harmony with Connie's guitar.

_ Hold onto to something strong _

Marjoram's drums let out a quick 1,2,3,4 beat.

_ Before you're pressed down by a thousand bricks! Every brick's the weight of anxiety! Why don't you shout it out? Shout your organs out! _

Savory joined in with the chorus.

_ Just shout and shout and shout it out! _

Vanilla couldn't help but quirk a brow as he heard the main lyrics, but shrugged and played nonetheless, chiming in with quick notes of his harmonica.

_ You shout it out; Shout your organs out. Just shout and shout. Just shout it out _

_ Why don't you shout it out? Oh, just shout it out. Just shout and shout and shout it out!_

Connie then played a solo that went for half a minute before Savory closed off the song with well timed plays of her piano keys. At the conclusion of the song, the villagers erupted into gleeful cheers, mesmerized by the band's talent, and begging for more.

Connie looked to the others with an already knowing look, "Ready for more?" She didn't even need to see their confirming nods as she announced "In your voice."

The concert continued for quite a while as the band performed their remaining songs, even allowing some of the villagers to join in with their own instruments for a few impromptu melodies. Finally, as the night sky twinkled with stars, the concert ended, and the atmosphere was simply electric, the spirit of the village brimming with passion and jubilation. Marlow invited the entire band to a banquet, another part of the celebration for the new railroad. Just as before, Vanilla found himself enjoying the simple, yet lively activities of the village. He had to admit, he wouldn't mind staying in a place like this, someday.

Basil was quickly becoming the life of the festivities, easily impressing people with his trotmobile knowledge.

"You must be some kind of genius!" Several exclaimed, Basil bashfully shrugging the compliments with bravado.

Savory meanwhile was enjoying the idolizing looks of the children, who were clearly enamored by her beauty. Connie and Vanilla both laughed as they saw boys and girls alike asking Savory if she were some kind of angel. And Marjoram was enjoying several drinks, and swapping stories with many of the farmers, mainly about his own large family.

They laughed, they sang, they danced. They had a great night.

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Really don't know why I'm not quite at my full game sometimes when I write some of the more recent chapters. But, I think that if just press on a little, I'll get back my mojo. I admit I couldn't really think of much to have happen to really stretch out the chapter, though perhaps once I'm ready to do some touch ups and revisions, maybe I can extend some scenes better, possibly with Pablo. Of Course, I was trying to avoid too much tension, since originally Pablo is found totally by random once he's lost his job, rather than any actual time limit to discover his whereabouts. Anyway, things should pick up a little in the next chapter, as we're nearing a big tournament, and of course hearing more about the Bloody Mantis. So please, stay tuned. And thanks to those still hanging in there. ^_^


	19. Session 19

STEAMBOT CHRONICLES

Hopefully I can get back into the swing of things, but at least the little "lull" in recent chapters should be over with. Now we're getting ready for some heavy action, and a big twist that I think many will enjoy. Again, sorry for the delay. Just wasn't feeling too motivated, and getting caught up with Dragon's Dogma and Ni No Kuni.

_Chapter 19_ ~ _Countdown_

It was a slow moving late monday morning at the inn. Savory was out on a walk, Marjoram was helping with his mother's store, and Basil was "trying his luck" once again at the stock market. Connie, having a second music sheet to work with, was once more off at her "special place" to think up the next set of lyrics. When asked if she'd like some company, the songstress firmly replied "No". So Vanilla found himself alone at the inn, staring blankly at the ceiling, bored out of his mind.

Just then the doors swung open, and in walked Fennel, "Yo, Vanilla!" Sitting upright, Vanilla felt a little stiffness in his neck as he righted himself in his seat, "Hey Fennel. What's up?"

"I've got a little proposition for you." Said the former Globetrotter, taking a seat at the table, Vanilla meanwhile rolling his head a little to get the small kink out. "What is it?"

"You've been to the arena before, right?"

"Yea, what about it?"

"Have you by chance heard of the UTC?"

Vanilla paused, trying to recollect the name, then shook his head, "I think?"

"It's the Ultimate Trotmobile Championship, an annual tournament held right here, in Happy Garland. All the best trotmobile pilots gather for a chance to win big, and to face off with the reigning champion himself, Elder."

'_Elder. He's the one who betrayed Schneider and Ginger._' Vanilla thought, recalling the brief talk about the Masked pilot when he had visited Nefroburg. "Eh, Vanilla?" Fennel snapped his fingers, noticing the lull in the blonde's thoughts

"Huh? Sorry." He apologized, "So, what's the prize?"

"10,000 UR. And, whomever wins, automatically gets bumped up to the S-Rank. Of course, no one has ever gone up against Elder and won, but the second place prize is 5,000 UR, and a guaranteed A-Ranking. So, you interested?"

"I don't know if I'm that good, but I guess it could be fun." Vanilla shrugged, very much tempted by the chance to try out his growing skills against high ranking pilots.

"Great. I'll sign you up on my way back to the station. You'll be the 8th and final participant."

"Were there others, before me?" Vanilla asked, curious.

"Not really, the entrees have been slim this year for some reason. Before you, I was gonna ask a buddy of mine, Dudley to join, but he's bee-"

Vanilla blanched, his eyes widening, "Wait. You know Dudley?"

"You've heard of him?" Fennel asked, then stopped Vanilla from responding with a raise of his hand, "Don't tell me, he's been wreaking havoc, again?"

"You could say that." Vanilla replied, recalling the two encounters with that ruffian.

"That's a shame. He's an idiot, but he means well most of the time. I'll have to sort him out the next time we see each other. I've told him before to stop picking fights with people, but it seems to never stick." Fennel laughed, then rose from his seat. "Well, I've got to get going. But I'll be sure to sign you up for the tournament. Remember, it's tomorrow afternoon, 2 sharp."

"Alright, I'll be there." Vanilla waved as the guitarist left. Left to his own thoughts again, Vanilla decided now was as good as any time to take a trip over to Neuhafen. He had postponed the return of Captain Ciboulette's license a bit too long. And besides, it would be nice to drop in on Mallow, see if he had recovered any.

~I~

One train ride later, and Vanilla was back in the port town. Back to where his long quest for self-discovery had reached a climax. Hopefully, he'd be able to speak with Mallow again about his hometown, maybe even his family. Once he departed from the train, he immediately jogged over to the small junkyard near the warehouse district, where Ciboulette's shack was located.

"Miss Ciboulette? It's me, Vanilla!" He knocked on the door gently, so as not to draw any unwanted attention. He heard a lock click and the door opened, Sir John greeting him.

"Ah, Vanilla. Fancy seeing you here." The Doctor greeted, then stepped back and waved towards Vanilla, "Do come in."

"Thanks." Vanilla said as he entered the shack, placing the sailing license on a makeshift shelf of old crates.

"I should be thanking you, my boy. To know my son is safe and sound. You've lifted a great burden from my heart. Though I must say, I was still shocked to see him injured. But his being alive is well worth a few bruises." Sir John explained, his tone much more relaxed than before. He was even more lively looking, his face no longer marked by frown line.

"Glad to hear it. By the way, is Miss Ciboulette here?"

"Actually, the young woman is out at the moment, selling flowers. But she ought to be back shortly." A knock came from the door, "And there she is, good timing." The gray haired doctor remarked with a chuckle. The auburn haired woman entered, carrying her basket, which was partially empty of flowers.

"Ah Vanilla, you're back." The disguised captain greeted, placing the basket down beside the door, while her parrot flocked over to a hanging hook with a squawk to rest. "I take then you found my license, yes?"

Vanilla nodded, pointing to the shelf, "Sure did, it's right there, all in one piece."

"Excellent. You might be a land lubber, my boy. But you fulfill your orders just as well as any hardy sailor." The woman laughed, while Vanilla was left a bit confused about the compliment, or was that possibly a harsh remark?

Sir John then stepped forward, "Vanilla, there is an urgent matter I wish to discuss you, and Mallow." They turn entered the room where Mallow was kept. Vanilla was glad to see him looking much better, he was sitting on the bed with a book in hand, which he put away as the others entered. "Vanilla! I thought I heard you enter."

"Mallow. I have something I've been meaning to discuss you." Sir John explained.

"What is it, father?" Mallow turned, patiently awaiting a response.

"If what you and Ms Ciboulette have explained is true, that you and your friend here are targets of the Bloody Mantis, then I fear your live is in far more danger than I previously imagined." He then turned to Vanilla, "This is where you come in, Vanilla. I have request I'd wish to make of you."

"What is it, sir?"

"I ask that you take Mallow to a place called Eurydika. Have you by chance heard of it?"

Vanilla cocked his name, trying to think of the name, "Sorry, can't say that I have. What is it?"

"An old mining town north of Happy Garland, and east of the Cuckoo forest. It's practically a ghost town now, with scarcely anyone living there nowadays. There's an old schoolhouse where I used to do some out of town classes, until it was shut down about 9 years ago. I want you to take Mallow there."

"Are you sure about this, Sir John?" Captain Ciboulette interjected. The man turned and nodded, grimly, "Yes. From what I've heard about the Bloody Mantis, they are highly persistent. And if they were to learn about my absence from the hospital, it's only a matter of time before they possibly try to seek me out as well."

Ciboulette nodded, understanding where he was leading.

"I thank you, Ms Ciboulette. You have been too kind, looking after my son all this time."

"It was nothing, he's a very well behaved boy. You did well raising him."

Sir John paused, touched by the remark. "Thank you." He then turned back to Vanilla. "Now, Vanilla. Will you take Mallow to Eurydika for me?"

"Yes. I will." Vanilla didn't hesitate to answer.

"Excellent. Thank you again, Vanilla." Sir John then bowed, heading for the door. "I shall go on ahead to the station. We should take separate compartments on the train. We should avoid being seen together, else we drawn suspicion if we're spotted all together."

"Then it looks like this is where we part ways, for now." Ciboulette addressed the two teens as Sir John exited the room. Mallow slipped off from the bed. "Thank you, ma'am. I can never repay you for what you've done."

"Just be sure to stop by sometime, once my new ship is complete. Maybe I'll even have you and Vanilla swab the deck, for old time's sake." She chuckled jokingly.

"Yes, ma'am." Mallow laughed as well, a bit nervously, then looked to Vanilla. "Sorry about this. Bet you had other plans when you came here."

"That's alright. Besides, we'll have some time to catch up on the way to Eurydika. It'll be like a little road trip!" Vanilla said enthusiastically. Ciboulette then handed him a rather worn look heavy coat, "This should provide some cover while your in the city. Better than running around in plain sight."

"Thank you, Captain Ciboulette." Mallow bowed, the woman turned away, waving her hand nonchalantly. "Just make sure you two bilge rats don't get yourselves into any more trouble, understood?"

Both boys saluted, "Yes ma'am!"

~II~

"Looks like the place hasn't changed all that much." Mallow remarked as he and Vanilla exited the Garland Station later that afternoon. Upon arrival, the two headed for the Earl Grey II, which Vanilla had parked outside the arena, near by plaza.

"So far, so good." Vanilla remarked, checking the pilot's seat to make sure all was in order as the two strapped in. Though his thoughts would occasionally turn to the Bloody Mantis, he honestly didn't care to think about them, it had been bad enough worrying over his amnesia, having to look under every shadow would have just been too much. Once they were set, he left for the Cuckoo Forest exit, wanting to move as quickly as possible to avoid drawing attention.

"Mind if I ask you something?" Vanilla began, once they were on the path that lead to the forest.

"Sure, what is it?"

"What kind of things did I do? Back home, I mean."

Mallow looked out over the right shoulder of the Earl, staring down into the deep ravine alongside the path, where water flowed from the falls further ahead. "A lot of things. You would doing a project one day, then doing another the next. You did have a tendency to get too involved with things, but never to the point of losing sight of what mattered."

"Huh. Sounds exactly like the way I am now." Vanilla shrugged, passing over the small bridge that hung over the ravine. It was good to know he hadn't changed that much from who he used to be. Following the incline up towards Dandelion's, Vanilla thought about another question. "Did... Did I have anyone special, back home?"

Mallow shook his head, "No, actually. In fact, you told me you had never had a real girlfriend before. You were always kind of shy."

This made Vanilla think for a moment. Did this mean Connie really was the first girl he had fallen for?

They followed a small incline past the forest near the workshop, and into an enclosed clearing with high rocky cliffs. Its circumference nearly that of the Garland arena itself, with only a few trees and grass. There were three passages, of which one they had just entered from. The ground appeared worn, with circular like markings radiating out from the center of the area, perhaps the remnants of a skirmish from long ago?

"So, which way?"

Mallow pointed to a narrow, rocky incline across from where they were, "It has to be that one."

"You sure, why not the other one?" Vanilla asked, gesturing to the other path, which was heavily forested. Mallow didn't even turn to face him, "It's definitely not that way, I'm sure."

"Why's that?"

"Because that way leads to where Chicory was buried."

"Oh." Was all Vanilla could utter, completely taken aback by the answer. Without further question, he made his way towards the barren path Mallow had pointed out.

On the other side of the small passage was what appeared to be a an old style town, almost empty and seemingly devoid of life. A broken, half-rotted ranch style gate hung over the entrance, the faded words just barely spelling out the name "**EURYDIKA**". There were only a few houses, most of them in grave disrepair. It was not unlike that home Vanilla and Connie had came across long ago, with the Nun and her three charges.

Most of the houses ran along the eastern side of the area, while a tall, rickety platform stood in the center. To the left were a few more houses, two of which were made of concrete, and a garage located closest to the gate. Mine carts could be seen lying about, some broken and left to the weeds and vines. A single, worn out track started by the garage, and ran up a small hill, before sharply turning to the left, likely to wherever the mine was.

Parking near the platform, the two scanned the row of houses for the schoolhouse. To their left was a stand alone house with a well out front, then two more houses that were slightly close together. As they walked the untidy, overgrown path, Vanilla could feel the emptiness around them.

"Doesn't seem to be a lot of people. Do they really live here?"

"From what I recall, there are still some who live here and do mining. Unfortunately, most of the veins have been depleted, and now they mostly just dig up iron ore." Mallow explained, recalling a time his father told him about the village a while back. Soon they found the schoolhouse, a large building that looked even older than most of the other houses, it's structure almost like it was from a far off time period.

The inside was just as dreary, tables sat in rows, waiting for students that would never come, while their chairs were strewn about the floor, forgotten and broken. Dust covered everything, and cobwebs hung from every corner and rafter.

Mallow sighed, "This place feels kind of lonely. But I guess do deserve it, after all I've done." He said coldly, slumping down onto a chair near the teacher's desk, which kicked up a small cloud of dust.

"What do you mean?" Vanilla was confused by this statement. The dark haired boy signed again, then hung his head.

"I acted so cruelly, thinking I could do whatever I pleased, just because my dad was rich and important. I... hurt a lot of people, especially Dandelion and Chicory." Mallow explained, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Clearly, the memory was difficult to bring up.

"I want to know, about Chicory." Vanilla asked, and was met with silence for a moment.

"He was very much like you, believe it or not."

"So I've heard..." Vanilla thought, feeling a prickling sensation as he heard the comparison once more.

"Connie and he were close, very close. They all were, the band, I mean. I think... I think I was jealous of that, of their friendship." Standing up, Mallow walked over to a nearby window, staring out through the cracked, dust covered glass. "Thinking back to those days, to who I used to be. It makes me sick, to know I acted like some kind of monster. And now, here I am, back home, and yet I still don't have the right words to apologize with."

"It doesn't matter how you say you're sorry, you just have to really mean it." Vanilla said, trying his best to console Mallow. The dark haired teen nodded, "Thanks. I needed that, Vanilla. Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should just try and confront them and make amends."

Vanilla gave him a lighthearted pat on the back, "See? That's the spirit." And the two shared a laugh. They then heard a distant crashing sound, drawing them both back outside.

"This place sucks! Ain't nothing to do. Plus, it smells old and is dusty as hell!" A voice bellowed, and Vanilla felt his stomach knot up.

It was Dudley, once again.

Vanilla opened the door and stomped his way out into the open. There, by the platform, was the burly looking moron in his his red trotmobile. A few people were poking their heads out from their homes, wondering what the commotion was about.

"I thought maybe this place might have something like gold I could take, or someone to fight. There's nothing here! It's so boring!" Dudley whined, smashing the buzz saw arm into the platform, breaking a few rotted boards and making it creak ominously.

"Haven't you got something better to do?"

Dudley looked around, confused. "Whose the wise guy? Someone want a piece of this?!" He said, slapping the chassis boastfully.

"I did." Vanilla called, having just hopped into the Earl Grey II. Mallow, still hiding inside the schoolhouse, was surprised to see his friend acting so bravely.

"Hey, wait a second. Ain't you that brat I've met like, twice already?" Dudley scratched his chin, clearly having trouble recalling their previous encounter.

Vanilla sighed, "Why don't you just take a hike. If there's nothing here that interests you, why smash it up?" Dudley chuckled, amused by the question. "Easy; it's fun. And now that you're here, things ought to get really exciting!" Without another word, Dudley charged forward, cackling as he swung with the buzz saw.

Vanilla already predicted this move, it was clear to him now that Dudley was all talk. And to think he had lost in their first battle so long ago. He dash to the side, clear of the saw's spinning teeth, and grasped the arm frame with both hands.

"Huh?! Get off me you twerp!" Dudley grunted, trying to wrest free the arm. Vanilla stomped on the boost hard, pushing Dudley back. The two slammed into the platform, the wood splintering and cracking around them as they collided. The blow was too much for the structure, and it gave way, toppling backwards, toward the rocks behind it. An explosion of dust and broken wood rose from the now destroyed platform.

After a moment of silence, Vanilla emerged from the wrecked structure, thankfully unharmed. Dudley had been knocked out, but was otherwise uninjured as well. The brawny pilot could be heard muttering in his stupor, "Dang... kid..."

As Vanilla stepped away, a few of the townsfolk approached. "That was some fine fighting there, stranger." A man, a miner judging by his dirtied and worn appearance, said. Vanilla shrugged, "It was nothing. I've had run ins with that man before, and knew he'd start up trouble if someone didn't sort him out. Though I'm sorry about that tower or whatever it was."

"Ah that old thing? It was just an old watchtower from ages back. We had mind to decommission it, but just never had the time to what with our struggles to keep the mine business going." The man waved a hand. "So, what brings you to Eurydika anyway? Wouldn't think it was just to beat some sense into thugs."

Vanilla was about to make up a fib, when Mallow stepped into sight. "He was bringing me here. I wanted to come here, for a little R&R, and he gave me a ride."

"Is that so? Well, you're more than welcome to stay, though I'm afraid there's not much to see in this old husk of a mining town." The man said, shaking hands with Mallow.

"Hey, everyone! Look!" A voice called from the nearby wreckage of the platform. There was a sound, like rushing, bubbling water, "It's a hot spring! We've sprung a hot spring!"

"A hot spring? My pappy said the last one dried up ages ago!"

"This is amazing. We just might have a new source of revenue!"

The man laughed, scratching the underside of his nose. "Well I'll be. Looks like the platform must have popped open a genuine hot spring. Never thought I'd see one of those again." He turned to Vanilla and Mallow, "Guess your little tussle with that man from before was a godsend. If we can get this hot spring up and running, we just might attract more tourists."

Vanilla turned to Mallow, laughing at the incredulous moment of happenstance. The man then addressed Mallow directly, "I understand you came here to relax, but if you're interested, we could use your help in clearing this wreck. We might not be able to pay much, but I can guarantee you it'll be mighty appreciated."

"Sure, I'd love to help." Mallow nodded, pleased that he wouldn't have to spend his days in complete isolation.

As some more miners came to check out the newly discovered hot spring, Mallow prepared to bid Vanilla farewell. "Thanks for bringing me here, Vanilla. I know my father would say the same."

Vanilla shook his head, "It was nothing. I'm glad to have been of service. Just take it easy, ok?"

Mallow nodded, "I will. Try and visit sometime"

They then parted ways, Vanilla getting back into the Earl Grey II and leaving Eurydika, just as the sky began to slowly fade into night. It had been quite an exciting day, full of surprises. But there was one thing that had been nagging at his mind for quite a while now, ever since that talk in the schoolhouse.

Just how similar was he to Chicory?

**TO BE CONTINUED.**

Thankfully got a bit of resurgence to my creativity while I did this, so hopefully the pace will (finally) pick up a bit better. Next chapter ought to be nice and action heavy, as I'll admit this one was a bit light on that. Anyone who has played the original game will know, that I once again skipped a scripted boss battle, the one encountered in the clearing past Dandelion's place. Like the sandship back in Sabbia, I decided the incident wouldn't really fit, especially as the boss was just so massive and seemingly out of place. As for the Dudley fight, gamers will know that you knock Dudley down when he climbs the platform after being beaten. I decided that since the original conclusion didn't make it clear how he survived, I figured having him get pushed into it would make more sense. Obviously, the doofus will awaken and be on his way, but at least it's much easier to assume than him somehow escaping from hitting the rocks face first. In the meantime, I will try to be faster on the next chapter, and the next, and the next... (hopefully)

Bear with me, and do stay tuned! ^_^


End file.
